


The World is Your Oyster, The Universe is Your Namesake

by EverythingNarrative



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Clones, Drama, Eye Trauma, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Minor Original Character(s), Rational Fiction, Science Fiction, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-25 11:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 95
Words: 132,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3808279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverythingNarrative/pseuds/EverythingNarrative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After <em>Reformed</em>, Steven asks why the Crystal Gems live apart from the rest of humanity. When the answer turns out to be unsatisfactory, Connie and he take it upon themselves to use magic to improve the world. To do this they will have to to answer a lot of tough questions and use the Gems' magic as never before.</p><p>During their misadventures Steven will threaten to leave the Crystal Gems, Connie will team up with herself, Garnet will split up, Amethyst will act as a voice of reason, and Pearl will come to find humans interesting; all while dealing with the looming threat of alien invasion, the perils of social obligations, and the infinite complexities of the modern world.</p><p>But most importantly? They are not going to do it alone.</p><hr/><p>TWiYOTUiYN is a (mostly) canon-compliant story that follows the events of the show while adding in lots of interstitial details and adventures. It explores the setting of Steven Universe in a rational manner without shying away from realism or consequence.</p><p>(Steven Universe is owned by Cartoon Network, and created by Rebecca Sugar. This is a derivative work, licensed under creative commons.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. War Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If you dislike the custom skin, you can turn it off near the top of this page: "Hide Creator's Style")

Steven isn’t quite sure what has prompted it, but there is an unrest on the rise in his gut. Like there is something afoot, bad omens in the skies (do sinister clouds count?) and general poor mojo.

His funky flow isn’t; to be completely brief and clear.

What it looks like from the outside is a small chubby boy with unruly curls, sitting on a couch in a beach house and looking constipated.

In the beach-side Universe residence, such a thing won’t go unnoticed for long (especially not when it is Steven; as is one’s lot in life with three moms.)

Amethyst is the first to come across Steven like so, as she comes in from outside (rather than through the Warp pad, or from within the temple.)

“What’s up, Steven?” She says in her usually chipper tone.

He doesn’t respond, and she continues. “I’ve got four donuts, and no-one to share them with. Whatever shall I do?”

It is then — as is common with contemplative moods — that Steven speaks his mind. “Amethyst, I don’t know a lot of things, and that bothers me somehow.”

“What do you mean?”

“Being a gem is super cool and all, but it’s like — what’s the world like? We go on missions to exotic places, but we never visit anywhere. I’ve never seen much beyond just Beach City. I’ve never gone to school.”

“There was that one time we ran off, remember that?” She says and hands him a donut.

“Yeah, but that was gem things again. I’m half human. I’m from Earth. You’re from Earth. I think we are neglecting half of the Crystal Gem’s heritage. Or maybe a little less, since you’re a full gem, but I get a small bonus for being an actual human, at least half way.”

Steven bites into the pastry.

“So what are you saying? You wanna get out more? Go to school?”

“I don’t think that’s enough. Connie has been going to school for years, I couldn’t possibly catch up. Amethyst, why did you guys have a fence?”

Amethyst falls silent. “Uh, that’s actually a pretty good question.”

* * *

As often comes of children’s inquisitiveness, Steven has happened to ask the right questions. Amethyst has gotten up with a muttered ‘excuse me for a minute’ and gone into the temple.

Within ten minutes she has assembled all four of them.

“Steven asked me some heavy questions, guys,” she opens with, and then to Steven: “Tell them.”

“I feel like we’re isolating ourselves from humanity. Why do we do that?”

Pearl is as usual quick to open her mouth. “Well,” she says and hesitates. The hesitance drags on, and she nervously bites a finger.

“That’s a very good question,” Garnet says.

“We used to have a fence, yeah? Why did we put that up?” Amethyst asks.

“I think we had the rationale that people would — worship? Garnet, wasn’t that..?” Pearl ventures.

“The temple is old, yeah we had problems with the locals when we established it. We put it in the Americas to get away from the more inquisitive civilizations of Europe.”

“Guys, how old _is_ the temple?”

“It predates the first war,” Pearl replied, “by a fair margin. Rose decided on the design, based on a fusion warrior; herself, Garnet, me, and Amethyst. It didn’t look like that from the start, the Temple itself is older than Amethyst.”

Steven mulls over this new information.

“Guys, there’s really a lot of things you haven’t told me about everything. Like Ruby, Sapphire, Kindergarten, the fact that you’re alien rebels, refugees from an interstellar war who left your homeworld behind…

“I think it’s high time Steven gets in the know. I’m twelve years old already.”

Pearl and Garnet exchanges glances. Pearl’s one of exasperation, Garnet’s one of her usual stoic unreadability.

“Connie will probably want to hear this too,” Steven muses, reaching for his cell phone.

Fortuitously, Connie is free that afternoon.

* * *

_Over nine millennia ago, Gems found Earth. A rich globe of flourishing life and active geology — both desirable to the Gem Empire. The greatest treasure in history._

_Pink Diamond — Gem royalty of the highest authority — choose to personally lead the efforts to lay claim to this bounty. She would direct the cataloging the biosphere; as well as oversee the exploitation of the natural resources of Earth and the surrounding solar system._

_The creation of Gems needed the presence of geological activity, as well as indigenous life to form; space ship construction was less demanding and could be done with asteroids._

_Thus, Earth was to be a… A fertile soil, I suppose, to Gemkind. We named it The Crystal System. There was just one small problem: Humankind._

_Agriculture was a burgeoning science to humanity, and it would be a thousand years before Mesopotamia could be called a cradle of human civilization._

_Pink Diamond hesitated, for these beings was the first intelligent extraterrestrial species ever encountered: it was a first contact scenario._

_She sent out word to Homeworld, to her peers of the Diamond Authority, that she had happened upon the miracle of intelligence, that these squishy, chemical beings completely bereft of magic or crystalline structure, somehow had meta-cognition—_

* * *

“What’s that?” Steven blurts out.

“Cognition is Latin for thought—”

“You know Latin?” Connie asks.

“Yes. ‘Meta-’, Greek prefix, means about or after, so ‘meta-cognition’ is to think about thinking. Self-awareness.”

Pearl clears her throat and continues.

* * *

_Humankind somehow had self-awareness. They were therefore deserving of many of the same rights and privileges as Gems. Notably, exploiting their home planet would be tantamount to theft, and possibly genocide._

_She was ridiculed. Her science staff was stripped of their credentials when they offered evidence for their claims, Pink Diamond suffered censure at the hands of the other three — accused of blasphemy and perversion._

_But she had already set up her base on Earth, along with an outpost on Mars, and the moon, and therefore had both a Warp network, numerous Gemforges, and Kindergartens._

_She also had tens of thousands of loyalists._

_Pink Diamond’s followers deserted Homeworld — in leaving they sabotaged Homeworld’s future efforts to come to Earth: stole or destroyed records, pulled Homeworld-resident collaborators out, and so on._

_And lastly, Pink Diamond ordered the destruction of the Galaxy Warp, and deigned herself a protector of the Earth and it’s Humanity._

_We named ourselves the Crystal Gems._

_There was dissent among our ranks. Those loyal to the other masters resented her decisions and demanded she yield power. Formal challenges were made against Pink Diamond’s rule and the Sky Arena served as the battlegrounds — Garnet was a champion for her._

_When trial by combat failed, a coup was staged. None of it mattered. By the end of it all, Pink Diamond had secured Earth._

_She then stepped down from her de-facto position as a ruler, cast off the Diamond title and swore to be just another Gem. And then there was peace for a time._

_She had hoped Homeworld would deem her too much trouble to meddle with, and leave her alone._

_She was wrong._

_As it would later turn out, the Kindergarten was compromised. It is unsure who did so, but the fact of the matter is that every Gem from that place ended up with subliminal imperatives — which had been explicitly outlawed eons ago — to be loyal to Homeworld._

_Istigating the conflict anew, Someone sent Homeworld a datagram of Earth’s coordinates. The Traitors who had called White Diamond upon the Earth were persecuted and destroyed. It would not be long before White Diamond arrived with an invasion force._

_The war for Earth started as a battle of wits between White and Pink Diamond. Although she would never, Pink Diamond threatened with the destruction of Earth’s all-important biosphere. White Diamond threatened with devastation from the heavens — equally destructive to Earth’s biosphere, but also to us._

_The stalemate lasted for hundreds of years, until White Diamond finally called Pink Diamond’s bluff and promptly invaded. Her forces outnumbered ours many times, and we fought a war of sabotage against attrition._

_The Kindergarten Gems defected to White Diamond, leaving us bereft of new friends and attacked from the inside._

_In the eleventh hour, Pink Diamond fashioned a weapon of ancient and vile magic. An absolute last resort._

_With White Diamond’s military superiority out of the picture, Pink Diamond prevailed and defeated her on the Strawberry Battlefield. White Diamond’s forces were decimated, survivors were imprisoned and sent back to Homeworld on unmanned starships._

_Pink Diamond hoped that would be the end. She had lost every Kindergarten Gem and many soldiers and civilians alike. Many areas of Earth bore scars, but Humanity was intact._

_There’s a thing I haven’t told. Upon stepping down, Pink Diamond had taken a new name—_

* * *

“Rose Quartz,” Pearl says and pauses for effect to glance at Steven, expecting him to come with an outburst of realization.

He remains silent, shocked. Connie has put a hand on his shoulder, but she too looks shaken.

* * *

_We mourned. Everyone had lost friends, and the horrors of war had come to those who never wanted to be soldiers in the first place._

_Those who had betrayed us to the Diamond Authority and called war upon us were executed as traitors. We ground their Gems to dust._

_In the brief period of peace, Amethyst — quite forgotten in the quarries of Kindergarten — emerged. Rose took her in to atone for her sins in the war._

_Then Blue Diamond came. Blue Diamond was cruel, brutal, wielder of great personal power, and commander of an unrivaled military._

_She descended upon Earth with bombardment from orbit — a rain of fire from the sky. Perhaps as retribution for our final blow against White Diamond._

_This second war — if it could be seen as distinct from the first — was much shorter and far more brutal. Where White Diamond had come to conquer, Blue Diamond came to slay every single one of us._

_She destroyed everyone we knew and loved. Sapphire and Ruby — in Garnet — Amethyst, Myself, and Rose Quartz were the only survivors._

_When all was lost, a terrible vengeance came over Rose. She used the terrible weapon again, destroyed Blue Diamond, massacred the enemy, and fused together we tore every ship out of the sky._

_We took upon us the heavy mantle of the Crystal Gems. We went about making it look as if Earth was dead — inhabited only by monsters, to make sure Homeworld would never come back._

_What we left behind — the Temple, and other such — became attractions to humans. They came to worship us, ask for our grace and gifts. We were weary after the wars and sought company._

_For the first time, we mingled with humans. Not as scientists studying them, but as individuals looking for comfort._

_But we couldn’t be a part of humanity. Humanity grew quickly in numbers, and waged their own wars for small matters, but still no less brutally. Wherever we intermingled, they would eventually ask for our help in conflicts, and we simply couldn’t._

_When the industrial age came, we were already isolated, and we elected to merely fence ourselves in and try to keep leftover Gem business from interfering with human lives. When someone came to claim Gem structures, we simply had to show up — not that we didn’t have leftover weapons to brandish — and they would often back off._

_We lived like that until Greg came and…_

* * *

“… I’m sure he has told you the rest.”


	2. Good Intentions

When the last tears had been wiped (Pearl especially — telling stories of old pains often rip open old wounds,) and things have calmed down, and Garnet ever so pragmatically has made tea, they gather again.

“If it’s worth anything, I’d like to offer my condolences for your fallen comrades,” Connie say.

“Thank you,” Garnet says solemnly.

“That’s very kind of you, Connie,” Pearl says.

Steven looks into his teacup, contemplating. “What happened to White and Blue Diamond?”

“White Diamond fell in the Strawberry Battlefield,” Garnet explains. “With her final strength she created the inverted pyramid. She’s safely locked away in the Temple.

“Blue Diamond, however, I believe you captured entirely on your own.”

Steven thinks about it for a moment. “The lighthouse! It had a really big blue gem! Peridot said something about Yellow Diamond?”

“That’s the remaining Diamond from back then,” Pearl says. “The newly appointed ones — if there are any — hopefully don’t care as much about us as she does. For her, it may be personal.”

Connie timidly raises her hand, causing everyone to fall silent and turn their attention to her. She shrinks a little under the stares of the trio of ancient aliens. “Um… Have you tried to integrate with humanity in recent years?”

“No…,” Pearl says. “Well, a little. We’ve raised Steven, and we do interact with the people in Beach City. Why?”

“It’s…” Connie begins, hesitating. “You said that you cut yourselves off from humanity because of… Wars? And recently, there’s actually been peace for quite a while. Like, for the last decade or so — barring the odd ‘military action’ , a few civil wars, and some despotic regimes.”

“And the Cold War. I foresaw several ways it could have sparked a full-scale war that would wipe out humanity,” Garnet adds deadpan.

“… Oh. Yeah,” Connie says and looks down.

“But what’s your point?” Garnet continues.

“It’s just— there’s a lot of good in Humanity too. More so nowadays than a hundred years ago. We’re getting better. Maybe you could leverage all your experience and… I dunno. Help out?”

“I’m in,” Amethyst says immediately. “What do I do?”

“No, that’s not what I mean…” She groans in exasperation. “I’m not smart enough to know what you need to do.”

“I agree with Connie,” Steven says. “We have a lot of magic and gem-stuff. People could use that, if they knew how. Then we wouldn’t have to worry so much about making sure nobody got hurt from it lying around!”

“I’m not so sure, Steven. We’ve tried giving humans magical objects, and more often than not they weaponize it. I’m against,” Pearl says.

“Me too,” Garnet says.

* * *

Being told off so thoroughly, and disappointed so by millennia-old beings’ inability to comprehend the human condition, Connie is understandably in a bad mood.

They sit in the sand, watching the waves.

“That was a really good idea, though,” Steven says apologetically.

“You think the Crystal Gems isolate themselves from humanity. I can see that.”

“Yeah. I never went to school.”

“I know… Steven, you have healing powers. I’ve been thinking about that…”

“Well, they haven’t been working since— what were you thinking about?”

“There’s a lot of sick people in the world who could use someone like you. Too many, probably.”

“We could ask my dad to drive us to a hospital and I could heal all the sick people?”

“There’s too many sick people, Steven. Remember in Overneath the Underworld how there’s that mad biomancer who didn’t sleep until he had healed everyone?”

Steven shudders. “He was creepy. I wonder if the fountain works on people too, or just gems?”

Connie springs to her feet, and smacks her forehead. “Right! The fountain! Steven I have a plan!”

“Great! What is it?”

“We can get help from _my_ parents! My father is a security guard, but he knows lots of things about technology and how it helps people; and my mother is a doctor! If the healing waters of your mother’s fountain works on people, we can tell them about that and they will _listen_.”

“Really?”

“I’m almost certain! But we need to convince the Gems to let us; I think they wouldn’t want us to proliferate healing water.”

“Proliferate?”

“Let it fall into the hands of people.”

“Oh… I think I have an idea,” Steven says.

* * *

Inside the beach house, they run into a stark obstacle.

“Absolutely not! It is far too dangerous.”

“But Pearl! It’s just for a little while, and the brambles went away! We just need to sneak a peek!” Steven pleads.

“If you want, I can find some old photos.”

“That’s just not the same as a statue… I wish Garnet was here, she’d allow it.”

“That’s because Garnet is a big softie who don’t understand the importance of discipline and caution. It’s a ‘No’, and that’s final.”

“Pearl,” Connie ventures. “What if we did it as Stevonnie?”

“I— Steven, fusion is a serious magic and should only be used for emergencies. You know that.”

Steven snickers. “But _Pearl_ , if it really is dangerous, we’re just getting ahead of the emergency. And besides, _Garnet_ is always fused.”

“I… But… _Gah_ , you don’t have anything to defend yourself with.”

“We can bring Lion, and Stevonnie is big enough to use mom’s sword.”

Pearl fidgets for a moment, conflicted before throwing her arms up. “Fine! OK! Go out on a solo outing with your friend, and your pet lion. I’m sure you can handle yourself.” And with that she marches off into the temple.

* * *

Big cats are rather like smaller cats in that they don’t come when called. Lion is a big cat, and therefore is a living embodiment of that problem.

“Liioon!” Steven calls for the seventh time out over the beach.

“Well, that’s one hole in the plan,” Connie says dejectedly.

“Yeah. Shucks. He’s got the sword too.”

No sooner do they turn to go back to the beach house, than a portal opens behind them and Lion lazily steps out. It snuffles a few times, then yawns.

“There you are, you big softie!” Steven calls, and runs up to pounces his enormous pink pet. “See, I told you he’d come,” he says to Connie.

“What, do you think he was sleeping?”

“Maybe,” Steven says. “Lion? I need mom’s sword.”

Obligingly, the big cat stands perfectly still to let Steven reach into it’s mane.

“What’s the deal with Lion anyway. Why does he have a sword inside him?”

“Oh, he has a whole bunch of stuff inside him. Inside him is a big sea of pink grass with a hill. Mom used to put stuff that was important to her there.

“Oh.”

Steven keeps feeling around, seemingly without luck, before sticking his head in too, and finally climbing bodily inside Lion.

When he finally emerges, gasping for breath, holding the sword, Connie can’t help but stare wide-eyed at him.

“Hm?”

“No, it’s just… That was really weird.”

“Yeah, and you can’t breathe inside him either.”

Connie shakes her head. “Anything else we need?”

Steven counts on his fingers. “Lion, sword, cheeseburger backpack, mason jars… That just leaves shield and… Well, fusion.”

“Have you figured out how to manifest your shield?”

“Yeah. The only question is if we can do it as Stevonnie.”

Connie takes him by the hand. “Why don’t we find out?”


	3. Re-Experience

They dance to the feeble music one gets from the speakers on a phone; on the beach, next to a sleeping lion. Connie briefly wonders at her charmed life. Magic, Gems… It’s like a fairy tale.

And then they fuse.

Stevonnie comes into being, a mind and a half born of two.

They rise to their feet far more nimbly than they did the first time.

“Fusion! Check!” They say triumphantly out loud to nobody in particular. “It feels great to be again.”

They stretch fresh muscles and smooth joints. Touching their toes, and going from there into a back-flip, landing with that same ethereal grace.

“I’m stronger… I’ve gotten stronger. A lot… That’s great!”

_Why am I speaking out loud?_

Next on their checklist is the Shield.

_This one is more delicate. Weapon summoning is a feeling. I am an experience. Heh, experiencing feelings._

_Safety, will to protect, aa~nd… Presto._

Steven’s Gem in their belly-button glows briefly.

_Let’s try that again._

They go through the same remembered sensations, and this time it takes. The pink curved disk materializes on their arm.

“Haha!”

Stevonnie looks over their outfit, consciously noting how it turned out, and is a little disappointed that they are still in shorts and a tee.

“I need some protective equipment. Maybe some boots? Skater gear! Knee pads! I could play roller-derby! What’s roller-derby?”

_Why am I talking out-loud?_

They mentally review what Steven knows of roller-derby from that one time when every channel briefly went down, save for an obscure sports one.

“We… _I_ have a mission. To the fountain!”

* * *

The beach house is empty when they come back.

 _So how does this thing work? You stand on it and_ **warp**. _What? Oh, whatever I know how to do it._

“Lion, c’mere boy!”

The big cat displays it’s usual enthusiasm and plods over to the warp pad. They step onto it and the word turns bright and blue.

Then the world turns upside down, and they arrive, slightly dizzy.

_You do that how often? It’s great fun though._

They find that the fountain is in good shape: still flowing, still framed in owergrowing brambles. As they walk past the vines, they stir slightly towards Stevonnie’s intruding form.

The fountain itself, up close is beautiful. Stevonnie takes a moment to stand in awe, before awe gives way to respect for the dead.

“I guess I understand why you’re crying now, mom.”

Stevonnie wipes a tear, and digs the mason jar out of Steven’s cheeseburger backpack.

* * *

Being fused makes emotional rollercoasters even more so, and Stevonnie takes time enough for the part of them that is Steven to calm down.

They sit on the edge of the fountain and watch the brambles play in the afternoon sun.

_The sword and shield was all for naught. Yeah. I wish I could have known Rose. She would have loved to see me… us… like this. Yeah, she would. I think._

Lion languidly walks up to the fountain waters and starts drinking.

_I wonder where this actually is? Yeah, actually, where do all the warp pads go?_

In such a modern day and age, answers like that wait in medium earth orbit, available to anyone with a GPS. Connie’s smartphone is sufficient for such a task.

_We’re in the Urals. West of Europe?_

They briefly review what little Connie knows of geography.

_We… I need to get a lot more knowledgable about things._

They weigh the mason jar of… ( _Healing potion!_ ) lachrimal essence in one hand and get up. Lion diligently follows them back to the Warp pad. Brambly vines reach out and caress Stevonnies legs as she walks, and she feels good about the things to come.

* * *

The beach house is not empty when they come back. Amethyst is in, enjoying life.

“Stevonnie? Oh, cool!” Amethyst falls off her chair in excitement, but manages to keep a hold of her sandwich. (Sandwich is life.)

“Hi Amethyst,” They reply.

“Oooh, look at you! Rose’s Shield! And Sword! And Lion! Awe— wait for it —some!”

Like an overenthusiastic child, Amethyst circles them, grinning all the while.

“What gives?” She asks.

“Steven wanted to show Connie the fountain. Pearl insisted it might be dangerous.”

“That sounds like her. Did you… She? like it?”

“… I see now why Rose is depicted crying. Yeah, Connie likes it,” they say and stare wistfully at the portrait hung high above the door of the beach house.

Amethyst falls silent for a moment, and follows their eyes.

“D’you guys want a hug?”

Stevonnie just nods and kneels down and embraces the smaller gem.

“There, there, champ,” Amethyst says and rubs their back. “It’s OK.”

The bigger fusion breaks into silent sobs. “I’m not smart enough, Amethyst. If I don’t know all the things Rose did; if I don’t know enough about how things work; how am I ever supposed to help anyone?”

“… I think it’s high time you two unfused. It sounds like you’re in a bit of a spiral.”

With a whirl of energy and a plop, Steven and Connie separate. They hold on to Amethyst for a while longer still.


	4. Testing the Goods

Steven and Connie have traveled halfway around the world and done at least five impossible things before lunch, and are understandably in need of a break. In this case, the break quickly becomes a nap.

It is almost picture perfect: two wonderful kids, asleep next to each other, leaning against a pink lion. Were the Gems more conductive to a human brand of nostalgia, this surely would have been preserved as a photograph, but alas…

It’s past lunchtime when Connie wakes up and finds Garnet regarding then in her usual stoic manner, smiling.

“Did you sleep well?” she asks.

Connie rises from the sofa and stretches. “Yeah.” She looks at Steven’s resting form and considers waking him.

Instead she asks: “Penny for your thoughts?” Garnet looks quizzically at her, unfamiliar with the ideom. “What are you thinking about?”

“You two remind me of myself.”

Connie ponders the enigmatic statement only long enough to recall the nature of the person she is talking to. “You mean Stevonnie? Like you are a fusion?”

“That is for me to know,” the Gem replies and smiles.

Connie shrugs at the enigmatic comment — from what she knows of Garnet, the Gem rarely speaks, and is either blunt or abstruse when she does. It is better to take the straight-talk for straight-talk and put the mystery comments out of one’s mind.

So instead she wakes Steven by shaking his shoulder lightly.

He mumbles something unintelligible and rubs his eyes.

“We fell asleep,” she explains to him.

“Oh… Well. It was nice with a nap. Hi Garnet.”

“I’m hungry, do you wanna go get some fresh air and something to eat?”

* * *

After a brief — if one-sided — discussion on the merits and detriments of eating a meal consisting only of fries, Connie and Steven decide to have Pizza (which is closer to being a complete meal.) After some debating at Fish Stew Pizza, they settle on crab-pineapple.

When smalltalk fails to take, Steven takes the mason jar from his backpack and puts it on the checkered tablecloth between them. They both stare at it in silence, eating.

“Do you think the gems would object to showing your mom this?” Steven asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“We’ll have to keep it secret from them. I don’t like keeping secrets.”

“We don’t _have_ to keep it a secret… We could just ask for forgiveness after we’ve done it.”

“They might ground me from TV again. I just got ungrounded.”

Connie ponders this predicament: while losing TV privileges might seem trivial to an adult, it is certainly no laughing matter when you are twelve. Wisely, she decides to change the topic.

“I think we should test it to see if it really works on humans — you said it worked on Gems?”

“Yeah… You’re right. That would be pretty embarrasing.”

Steven still looks apprehensive, so Connie addresses the issue: “If the Gems do ground you? I’ll argue your cause. And… When we were Stevonnie, you… Well, both of us really — I think we both need to get smarter, right?”

Steven nods.

“We could read books about science and technology and how the world is. I’ll ground myself from TV too, then we can read together.”

“That sounds… not bad,” Steven says.

* * *

To test a healing device, one has to get hurt first, and this proves a bigger problem than they anticipated. Getting hurt is never fun, and neither of them have much courage when it comes to things like vaccinations. Connie has more experience with needles, but still she is squeamish around them.

After much awkward tip-toeing around the subject, Connie ends up volunteering.

“If you can get a clean needle, I’ll prick my finger.”

And so they run back to the beach house and rummage through Pearl’s sewing equipment for a pin, which gets thoroughly washed with soap (if Connie’s mother has taught her anything it is to be hygeinic — another stable at the Maheswaran residence: Dr. Maheswaran ranting against the horrible standards of hospital hygeine.)

“What if it doesn’t work?” Steven asks nervously.

“Then it’s a good thing it is only a needle prick. And then we can test if your healing spit is back.”

“Yeah, OK.”

Connie takes a deep breath, holds her hand down to the table, and jams her eyes shut. “Go!”

Steven jabs the needle briefly into her finger.

“Ow.” She opens one eye. “That wasn’t as bad as I expected.”

A small droplet of blood collects at her fingertip, perfectly round under surface tension. Then Steven pours a tablespoon-full of fountain water on it (with a tablespoon — it wouldn’t do to contaminate the water in the jar). It only takes a few seconds before the pain disappears.

She dabs her finger dry with a napkin and gives her fingertip a squeeze. No blood droplet this time.

“It works,” she says. “It works!”

“Now we can go show your parents,” Steven exclaims.

In a flurry they pack up — mason jar goes back in the backpack, shoes get put on, and the two disappear out the door.

Lion comes the third time Steven calls.

* * *

The thing about parenthood as a married couple is that one has to play a game of balance between work, family, friends and love. Such a complex interplay often results in seemingly arbitrary rules imposed on one’s children, often with good reason.

Connie fortunately had never been the rebellious type — ambitious, yes, but she knew her parents often knew better.

And so she knew to call ahead when she would be home earlier than planned, so her parents could be ready for her to come home.

“Hi mom. It’s me. I’m coming home earlier than planned… Yeah, I’m getting a lift… In about ten minutes… OK. I love you too mom… Bye.”

“She’s OK with you coming home?” Steven asks.

“Yeah, let’s go. Can lion really get us there in ten minutes?”

Steven merely pats the beast under them. “Lion? To the Maheswaran house.”


	5. The Reveal

Turns out Lion doesn’t appreciate the fact that Steven doesn’t know the way to the Maheswarans, and that Connie’s attempts to guide them leads them hopelessly astray.

And Lion is a lazy creature at heart. There to help Steven, sure, but also still fundamentally a cat. Vastly better suited for endurance running by design, but not fond of it as would be a dog.

So the sight-seeing tour of the connecting roads between Beach City and Chesapeake Bay City is cut short by a portal jump, leading directly to Connie’s home street.

“Why didn’t you do that in the first place!?” Steven cries out, exasperated.

“Lion is a cat, and I am pretty sure cats do what they want most of the time,” Connie answers.

“Do you have a cat?”

“No… I follow some cat-lover blogs.”

“Oh.”

They dismount, but the giant pink creature is already garnering a few rubber-neckers.

“Shoo, run off somewhere,” Steven nonchalantly says to the big cat. Lion obligingly jumps a fence into a nearby empty lot and lies down.

“Disobedient beast,” Steven mutters. Connie snickers at his sullen expression.

“So, what do we tell your parents?”

“Well, they’ve already seen the Crystal Gems. So they know something is up with your family. They don’t know that something is up with you.”

“OK.”

“I guess we should just tell the truth.”

* * *

Dr. Maheswaran greets them at the door, with her hair wrapped in a towel. “Connie, Steven…”

“Hello Dr. Maheswaran.”

“Did Greg give you a lift?”

Steven and Connie exchange glances. “Mom, we need to talk,” Connie says.

Taken aback by the comment from her daughter, she guides them inside. Her husband is sitting in the living room reading the newspaper.

“Hello Mr. Maheswaran.”

“Hello Steven,” he replies.

“What is it you want to talk about?”

Connie holds out her hand, and Steven digs through the backpack. He hands her the mason jar, and she puts it on the coffee table.

“Mom… You remember that dinner with Steven’s family, right?”

“Yes.”

“It was odd, don’t you think?”

“Yes. But I think that Steven’s foster mothers are quite competent parents.”

“And the whole giant woman thing..?”

“Yeah, I won’t even claim to have an explanation for that. But I believe what I see with my own two eyes.”

Connie lookes at her dad, listening with the newspaper — the Times — held closed, head slightly tilted.

“Dr. Maheswaran, Mr. Maheswaran,” Steven says, “what Connie is trying to say is that my… Foster moms… Are aliens. From space.”

Connie’s mother looks at him with incredulity, and opens her mouth to says something, but Steven interrupts.

“Permit me to explain. Do you know that big statue that sits by the seaside in Beach City? You can’t really see it from Beach City, but…”

“I know of it,” Mr. Maheswaran says.

“It is a temple, constructed thousands of years ago by the Gems, who are aliens from space. They came to Earth a long time ago and wanted to use all the resources on Earth, but found out they liked Earth so much they didn’t want to ruin it.

“Then some more aliens from their home planet — who _did_ want to ruin Earth — came and they fought two wars, and now Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl are the last surviving of the first ones. And, well my mom was too.

“She was named Rose Quartz, and was a Gem too. My dad was a rock star, and they met when he played a concert in Beach City. Unfortunately when they decided to have me, my mom had to give up her physical form to bring me into the world.

“I am half Gem, half human. And I have magical powers, most of the time.”

Dr. Maheswaran doesn’t really know what to make of that story. She is a pragmatic woman, and a firm believer in science — especially medical science, given her profession. She is tempted to dismiss it out of hand as a childs tall tale — but then Connie seems strangely serious, as if this is no joking matter.

And she is also a firm believer in the powers of her intuition. She has honed her powers of observation through the practice of medicine, learning to read her patients’ needs.

 _This boy isn’t telling tall tales,_ she thinks. For a moment she is scared, but then her practical side dismisses the fear.

“You have magical abilities,” she says and nods thoughtfully. “Would you care to demonstrate?”

“Of course.”

Steven pulls up his shirt, revealing his mother’s gem, and Dr. Maheswaran’s eyes go wide. _That is certainly not normal,_ she thinks.

With practised effort, Steven finds his will to protect, and manifests his shield. The pink disk comes to rest on his left arm.

“This is my mother’s shield. All Gems can manifest weapons like that — Pearl makes a spear, Amethyst has a whip, and Garnet has big spiky gloves. But I have a shield. It’s meant to protect, and not hurt.”

Both of Connie’s parents are now staring wide-eyed at Steven. Mr. Maheswaran recovers his composure first. “A shield, huh?”

“Yep. It’s very strong. I only learned to summon it on command a few weeks ago.”

“Have you ever used it?”

“Yes. The Gems and I go on missions around the world to defeat monsterns and get rid of dangerous artifacts before they can hurt anyone. I’ve mostly been defending myself a little with it. The Gems are very good fighters, and they protect me.”

“That sounds irresponsible of them,” Dr. Maheswaran says.

“Well… I am part Gem. And they need me to learn how to defend myself, and solve Gem-related problems.”

“You said you travel around the world?” Mr. Maheswaran asks.

“We have a system of warp-pads that can take us places quickly.”

“Anyway,” Connie breaks in, “that isn’t the most amazing thing.” She takes off her glasses — empty frames — and hands them to her mother.

“Your glasses?”

“The Gems have healing magic. Steven healed my eyes a while back and I was afraid you wouldn’t let me see him anymore if you found out.”

Next, she withdraws the jar of lachrimal essence from Steven’s backpack and hands it to her mother.

“That jar contains fountain water from a magical fountain which Steven’s mom built. It heals wounds.”

Dr. Maheswaran stares at the unassuming jar of clear liquid for a beat.

“What.”


	6. Doctor's Orders

Dr. Maheswaran has gone through medical school, and has learned throug diligent study that there is no such thing as a free lunch in medicine. No miracle cures, no ‘healing.’ Everything a surgeon does is to surture over minimal damage and hope that natural regeneration can handle the rest. Antibiotics just leaves bacteria defenceless, vaccines only bolster existing defences, and so on.

And here, her daughter has allegedly brought her a jar of magic. Actual, literal magic.

 _It has to be too good to be true,_ she thinks. _Either it is carcinogenic or it is toxic or it overtaxes the body, or…_ Her face is contorted in worry.

“This heals wounds? What is it?”

“We don’t know,” Steven admits, “my mom invented it but I don’t think she told anyone what it is.”

“How do you know it heals wounds?”

“I tested it on a needle prick,” Connie says.

 _That’s worrying,_ she thinks. “Show me.”

Connie feels the change in tone like the blow of a hammer. Something has gone wrong. Connie has done something wrong. Mother is no longer mother. Now, she is Dr. Maheswaran.

Connie dutifully holds out her index finger, and her mother inspects it closely. It is, of course, perfect, but all she does is give a contemplative grunt.

“Did you put this in your eyes?”

“No… I…” Connie stammers.

“Dr. Maheswaran,” Steven says, “I healed Connie’s eyes on accident. My spit has healing powers too, well— used to have; and we shared a juice brick. My dad broke his leg once and I healed that too.”

“Hm. Potent,” she says and returns to looking at the jar.

Dr. Maheswaran is silent for almost ten seconds. Her husband has put the paper down and is staring intently at her.

“Connie, you are not to touch or interact with this… Fountain… Or it’s waters.”

“Wha— Why?” Connie almost whispers with tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Because I say so. Universe, you can leave now.”

Mr. Maheswaran stands up, and addresses his wife: “Priyanka, a word.” Not a question, not even a request. Just a fact. She looks at him, and he gestures towards the back of the house.

They leave Connie and Steven in the living room. And they hear the back door open and close. But even stepping outside doesn’t prevent the two from hearing a heated exchange of words.

Steven puts his hand on Connie’s shoulder.

“Hey…” he says and doesn’t come up with anything to follow that.

* * *

They sit there in the living room for so long that the silence begs to be broken.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Steven asks innocently.

Connie doesn’t answer.

“This might be it,” she says instead.

“Hm?”

“The last time I see you.”

Steven ponders for a moment: it is the greatest respect to honestly consider one’s friends problems and anxieties.

When Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran return, it is without words but with kinder expressions. Connie sits on the sofa, staring at the floor and Steven is standing by her, hand on her shoulder.

Priyanka goes straight to her daughter, crouches down to Connie’s height, and embraces her as only a mother can.

“I’m sorry Connie,” she says.

What Connie doesn’t know is that parents in general don’t force their kids away from their few friends. Not often anyway. And those that do better hope Pearl never finds out.

The Maheswaran’s might have a strict code of upbringing, but above all else they love their daughter.  
But such is easy to forget to remember when you are twelve and TV tells you otherwise. (If only there was a TV-show with good, wholesome messages like that.)

And so, Connie is caught completely off guard.

“I’m sorry you thought we were going to take you away from your friend. Your father and I would never do that, I promise. And it is an amazing thing you have found and I shouldn’t have scared you like that.”

And then Connie can’t hold the tears back anymore.


	7. Serve and Protect

And so, Steven and Connie aren’t split apart by Connie’s parents like they had feared.

Once the tears are dry and everything is copacetic once more (well, one can hope,) Connie demonstrates the practicality she has inherited from her mother.

“Mom, can Steven stay for dinner?”

Priyanka briefly considers the implications. “How did you get here, again?”

“We rode my pet magical lion,” Steven interjects.

“You rode a _lion?_ ” Priyanka says as her eyes widen.

“It’s OK Dr. Maheswaran, he’s tame. And pink. My mother created him to protect me, I’m fairly sure.”

She looks at her husband, who merely shrugs. “As long as you have a way to get home,” he says. “Where exactly is this lion of yours?”

“In the empty lot down the street, I think. He sleeps a lot.”

Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran share a concerned look. He nods, and says “Someone might call animal services if there’s a pink lion lying in an empty lot.”

“Animal services? What’s that?”

“It’s a police branch that deals with animals,” Connie helpfully supplies, “can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

“Oh. Right. Big pink lion. That might seem weird.”

It is easy to forget such mundane things when you live in a small tourist town where the inhabitants — all like, sixteen of them — know that giant pink felines, and purple-skinned wrestlers are par for the course.

Mr. Maheswaran doesn’t know exactly that, but he has a pretty good idea of how Steven might forget that big pink lions aren’t indigenous to the Delmarva Peninsula.

* * *

After a brief exchange with his wife, Mr. Maheswaran joins Steven for the trip to the empty lot, while Dr. Maheswaran and Connie go grocery shopping.

“It’s just down the street,” Steven explain when they step outside.

“I know,” he says. “I live here.”

“Of course. Heh, sorry.”

Even from the Maheswaren residence front steps, the fence to the lot is visible. There’s no crowd gathered in front, which may or may not be a good thing.

They walk a few hundred feet in silence.

“Connie said you know a lot of stuff about technology?” Steven says.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a hobby.”

Mostly he keeps himself updated on security systems with several publications for professionals and profiling techniques, and if all goes well he will create a startup security consulting firm with a colleague in the next year.

“That sounds like a useful hobby. I just play video games and read books. And play the ukulele.”

“That’s decent.”

Musical interest. His daughter plays the violin, and reads books too. Video games he has himself partaken in in his youth, and he prides himself on not being a hypocrite.

“I guess.”

Mr. Maheswaran is not a very talkative man, Steven concludes as they reach the empty lot.

Steven is an excitable and polite kid, Mr. Maheswaran concluded a while ago.

There’s no sign of a pink lion, apart from the paw-prints left in the loose gravel, and a police cruiser is parked in front of it. Two police officers are standing by the fence, looking in. A short black man and a tall white woman.

“Let me handle this,” Mr. Maheswaran says to Steven. “Hello, officers.”

“Good day sir,” the male officer says. “We’re in the middle of an investigation, please move along.”

“Into the sighting of a loose animal I presume?”

“… Do you have information pertaining to it?”

“If it’s a lion you’re looking for, then yes. Odd colouration?”

The officer nods.

“I’ve seen it a few times when I drive my daughter to Beach city. I think it might keep to the wilderness surrounding the motorway.”

“Thank you for the tip, sir,” he says and turns to his partner, “It’s pretty obvious that it ain’t here. Wanna head back? We’ll put a BOLO on a ‘pink lion’ back at the station.”

“Yeah, good call,” she replies.

Once the two officers are gone, Steven speaks up. “Why did you tell them that?”

“Captured dangerous, owner-less animals are euthanized as a matter of protocol.”

“Euthanized?”

“Killed.”

“No!” Steven exclaims. “They’d do that? Really?”

Mr. Maheswaran nods. “Now you can go look for your lion.”

“… Thank you, Mr. Maheswaran.”

* * *

No sooner has Steven jumped the fence in a single bound (to Mr. Maheswaran’s amazement, despite himself) and called out for Lion once, than the big pink floof-ball peeks it’s head out of the opening an exposed concrete pipe down in the pit that occupies the center of the lot.

With the knowledge that Lion is safe, they walk back.

“Impressive pet you have.”

“Thank you, Mr. Maheswaran.”

“Call me Doug.”

“OK.”

It might not be so bad if his daughter is hanging out with a— _heh_ —a superhero.


	8. Château Maheswaran

For those of you living in suburbs, there is something you should know about cities.

If you have ever lived in anything larger than a medium-sized city, you know why it is that city-dwellers always walk. First, the streets are obviously more likely to be filled with traffic, and second, cities are often planned with efficiency in mind — a mile on foot in a city takes you a lot further than it does in a suburb.

What I am getting at is that it’s a short hike to the grocery store for Connie and Priyanka.

It is a similarly quick trip around said supermarket, since first of all it isn’t a ’Mart, and second, the Maheswarans are such creatures of organization that they have shopping down to a science: smart-phone apps for shopping lists, grocery brand-loyalty, and so on — even to the point that pre-shopping _snacks_ are obligatory.

(Shopping hungry is a travesty: it changes your shopping habits.)

(Priyanka and Doug met at a life-organization meet-up back in the day.)

Healthy living is a lot easier when you cook every day (Dr. Priyanka Maheswaran is an advocate of healthy living, if you can tell,) since it gives one complete control over what one eats. (And it is in fact not very expensive, since you will always be stocked up on fresh groceries, only needing to top off the fridge.)

Wild rice, whole milk, bok choy from an adjacent, smaller grocer, and since today has a guest dining in, oat cookies and free-range chicken.

Some concessions have to be made when you are two career parents in a household: to her mother’s chagrin, Dr. Maheswaran doesn’t mix her own spices. It’s just one of those things that you concede when your schedule is sufficiently busy.

As Connie and Priyanka passes a watermelon display, Connie snickers.

“Remembering something funny?”

“It’s a story Steven told me. A few months back he accidentally grew an army of watermelon minions, only he didn’t actually know they were alive at first and tried selling them.

“Over night a bunch of seeds from some watermelon he had been eating grew into huge vines, and the melons were all shaped like Stevens. Then after he had sold them they came alive and started making trouble. Like, they were still made of melon, so it wasn’t a lot they could do…

“And then the Gems ended up in an all-out brawl with a bunch of watermelons.”

Priyanka pushes aside what worry such a story has conjured in her mind, and takes it for the silliness it implies. “Sounds like a silly scene,” she says with a smile.

“It was funnier when Steven told me. He says he can’t look at a watermelon the same way anymore.”

Dr. Maheswaran goes to work in the kitchen, and her husband joins her — four hands are always better than two, and the only reason she cooks more than he does is because he was raised in the non-existent food culture of the home of a Japanese immigrant and an American, while she was raised immersed in the rich culinary tradition of India.

Connie, meanwhile drags Steven to her room.

* * *

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

Connie’s room has a second-floor view of the small back-yard (lush, ill-kept, and mostly a terrace with a lawn — her parents are too busy to do gardening and too stingy to hire a gardener.)

She insisted on getting the one with slanted walls, and has never regretted it.

Her room is neat — a loft bed, a desk, a dresser, posters on the wall (prominently, poster-sized cover art of The Spirit Morph Saga — despite the troublesome ending still some of the best books Connie has ever read,) and some boxes of toys.

“Wow, nice room,” Steven exclaims.

“Yeah, well, it’s not a beach cottage.”

“Cool! You sleep up under the ceiling?”

“Yeah.”

“And— and the walls slant!”

“It’s the roof, yeah.”

“So, if your bed is near the ceiling and the ceiling is the roof… I guess your beauty sleep is a… _lofty goal?_ ”

Steven presents the pun with his trademark goofy face eliciting a snort from Connie.

“OK, that was mean,” she says with a glint in her eye, “Do I really deserve the… _pun_ -ishment?”

“I guess I am a _roof_ -ian.”

Connie jabs Steven in the arm and they break into peals of laughter.

“So what happened to Lion?” Connie asks.

“Well, some police officers were looking for him, but your dad made them go away. Turns out Lion had found a place to hide, smart as he is.”

“That’s good, anyway there’s a few things we probably shouldn’t talk about with my mother and father.”

“Such as?”

“Remember when one of Lapis’s water clones almost drowned us?”

Steven nods.

“That kind of thing. Also, let’s not mention Stevonnie.”

“OK.”

“And if anyone asks, you’re homeschooled.”

“Homeschooled?”

“Who taught you to read and how to do arithmetic?”

“Pearl did.”

“Homeschooled.”

“OK.”

* * *

The smells of cooking waft up from the kitchen a few minutes before Connie and Steven are called down to eat. Heady aromas of spices and fried deliciousness fill the house.

The meal itself is a Chicken Tikka Masala, served with brown rice, and a bok choy sauté. Such meals are a staple of the Maheswaran household: fried greens, rice, spiced vegetable stews, and purée sauces.

“Ooh, it smells really good!” Steven says as they come into the dining room.

Truthfully his knowledge of foods is scarce. On the occasion that the Gems actually cook him a meal, it is either Pearl’s bland but nutritionally complete ordeals, or Garnet keeping watch with Amethyst’s more elaborate, odd-ball and occasionally downright inedible experiments.

(Amethyst thinks motor oil is a good component of a sandwich, if you recall. Garnet is there to make sure such things do _not_ go in Steven’s food.)

“What is it?”

“Tikka Masala, with rice and bok choy sauté,” Priyanka concisely answers.

Steven’s expression is a picture of complete incomprehension.

“Fried chicken in a spiced sauce, boiled brown rice, and lightly fried vegetables,” she clarifies.

“Sounds delicious, Dr. Maheswaran! I’ve never had it before.”

“Please, call me Priyanka.”

And so they dine — Steven and Connie eagerly so. (It has been an eventful day, and eventfulness fosters hunger.)


	9. Steven-Bomb 2.0

**_We Need To Talk_ **

Dealing with magical destiny stuff is hard when you are only twelve. After accidentally revealing Stevonnie to Greg, he told them a tale of Rose and him, and how Fusion is a unique experience.

And also of how Pearl used to be jealous. Like, really jealous.

As the day grows to evening, they spend the few hours left before Connie has to go home paddling around at the beach.

“Connie, why did you say your parents don’t know about magic?”

She’s silent for a few seconds.

“I thought he might tell the Gems… I— It’s a secret what we’re doing. Right?”

Now Steven takes time to think.

“… I guess it is. Heh. We’re a secret team.”

Connie understandably fails to get the reference.

“And, well. I don’t think my parents would approve. Remember how my dad broke up our hug?”

“Yeah?”

“He wouldn’t like us literally merging into one person— er, an _experience_ … You know what I mean.”

Steven understandably fails to understand patriarchially over-protective fatherhood. If he had watched the right kind of TV-shows, then maybe.

* * *

* * *

**_Sworn to the Sword_ **

It takes a little convincing (and a lot of puppy eyes) on Connie’s part to get permission to take fencing lessons from Pearl. But Pearl is a responsible foster mother to Steven (according to Dr. Maheswaran’s own words.)

Besides, it was an uphill battle to get Connie to take tennis practice in the first place, and both of her parents are firm believers in the merits of physical exercise. Fencing is as good a source of activity as any (and Mr. Maheswaran has long been subtly nudging his wife towards the idea that Connie should learn how to defend herself.)

(His wife carries a snub-nosed twenty-two in her handbag.)

When Connie comes home with a hole torn in the knee of her overalls, Dr. Maheswaran orders a Kalaripayattu training set online.

* * *

* * *

**_Chille Tid_ **

Lion stares at the door to the beach house. It feels the three Guardians and Guardian Kitten inside.

It feels the vague impressions of the kitten’s way of calling out when kitten needs a ride on Lion’s back. But they are muddled and not directed at Lion.

It snuffles and again considers scratching at the door. The noise might wake the kitten. It decides against.

It inspects the door-handle and strains to remember what Kitten does to it to make the door open. With quivering nose-tip, it hesitates, before gently headbutting the door.

It clicks open, Lion sneaks inside on soft paw-pads, and jumps up to the alcove with the profound grace that only large proud predators can. The wood gives a low creak.

The Sometimes-Cat Guardian wakes up.

“Hey Lion,” she says in a sleepy voice.

Lion snuffles in reply.

The pale one and the big one are lying close to each other, while the kitten is lying by himself. Lion treads over to its charge and touches its nose-tip to the little one’s paw. Cold.

That won’t do, to have the kitten lie alone, so Lion curls up around him.

Sometimes-cat guardian gets up slowly, and silently traipses down the stairs to close the door. The door is often closed. Lion thinks it ought to be open more, since it is difficult to open.

Then she comes back up and puts a blanket over the kitten, before she becomes a cat. She crawls on top of Lion. Lion doesn’t mind and goes to sleep.

* * *

* * *

**_Keeping it Together_ **

Garnet sits cross-legged in front of the lava-pit when Steven finds her.

(He had to ask Pearl for help, opening the door.)

The room still smells ever-so-faintly of vanilla.

He looks up at the cloud of bubbled gems, and tries to pick out the new additions. There should be bubbles with jagged shard-clusters, but he fails to find any.

When she doesn’t greet him he crosses the floor illuminated by the dull red glow of crystal veins in the ceiling to reach her.

He steps around her sitting form, putting himself between the lava-pit and his distressed, square-haired surrogate mom.

Then he bends down and pulls her into a tight hug from behind.

“I’ll find a way to fix them. I promise.”


	10. Temple Treasure Hunt

With some semblance of normalcy returned, and summer vacation ending (meaning that Connie’s daily training subsided in favor of a weekly regimen,) Steven gets some time to ponder recent events.

And you would almost have pity for the poor guy for all the ugly revelations he has these days. One such hits him with great force one lovely August afternoon.

He finds Pearl in her room, amidst the impossible waterfalls. “Pearl?”

“Steven! Oh, hi. Why are you in my room?”

“I just had a horrible thought! You have to help me!”

“Wh— Oh no, what is it?!”

“You remember the mirror Lapis was in, right?”

“Yes?”

“Can we make sure there isn’t _another_ gem like that lying around in your things?”

Pearl’s eyes grow to the metaphorical size of dinner-plates. “Heheh… Uh, let me get right on that, Steven,” she says in an unsteady voice.

* * *

Sixteen hectic minutes later Pearl has launched the other Crystal Gems into a full-scale investigation of the Temple. Steven has even volunteered to look in Rose’s Room.

“I don’t get why we have to look through _my_ room. It was you who had the mirror,” Amethyst complains while she lifts an old grill out of the pile of junk they are rooting through, and tosses it over into their current drop-off pile.

“Everything I own I have meticulously cataloged, and Garnet is checking the Bubble room. The fact that I had one such artifact doesn’t mean I have more,” Pearl says and pulls a daisy-chain of interlocked combination locks out from inside a busted air conditioner.

“I know there isn’t one in here. I would have noticed!” Amethyst says and lifts an errant car bonnet off the pile.

“Says the one who forgot to bubble the Desert Glass?” Pearl says and chugs said AC onto the drop-off pile.

“That was one time. Don’t tell me you never forgot anything,” Amethyst says and struggles with an over-sized Finnish torch.

“Only very rarely… Besides… I feel it was my fault what happened with the Slinker. If I had been there, maybe you wouldn’t have had so much trouble with it.”

Pearl manifests her spear and uses it as a lever to pry the torch free.

“Well, we got it easily enough once you did join us, so…” Amethyst says, chucking the large piece of wood a fair distance.

I lands with a crash.

“I’m glad you’re OK,” Pearl says, trying to pull a fishing rod out of the pile without breaking it.

“Thanks, P,” Amethyst says and flings a broken broom over her shoulder. “How long do you think it’s going to take to sort through all this?”

“At least a day,” Pearl says, filing through a stack of flowerpots.

“I’m just thinking… If there’s any magic items powered by a forsaken gem in here, wouldn’t it have already messed things up?” Amethyst says rifling through a box of handcuffs.

“Maybe, maybe not. I don’t know. That’s why we have to look,” Pearl says and pages through an unmarked tome.

“Fair enough.”

“Can I have this book?”

“Sure.”

* * *

The temple door has opened more or less at Steven’s request this time. He stands amidst the pink clouds, which he now knows to hold terrifying power. It is a daunting task to him, not so much because he knows it to be difficult, but because the last two times he experimented with the room, things went sour.

For almost a minute he stands pondering how to proceed so that he does not end up trapped, and/or at the mercy of a mad Connie-clone.

“I want a tiny floating whale.”

The tiny floating whale appears with a diminutive poof, and greets Steven in it’s usual extremely cute manner.

“ _Awooo~_ ” it says.

“I want the tiny floating whale to be able to talk, and know stuff about how this room works.”

“As you wish,” it says in an oddly familiar female voice.

“I want you to teach me how to use the room.”

“Of course, Steven. The room responds to spoken commands. Is there anything you want to know specifically?”

Steven looks about. “Tell me how you get out, first.”

“Currently, the room will respond to the command ‘exit portal, please’, and will summon the extra-dimensional portal of the temple to your location at the earliest time it becomes available.

“This command is currently configured to open the portal upon summoning.”

The whale smiles obligingly.

Steven nods. _That could have saved my skin the first time around… How about the evil Connie, though?_ He ponders a bit.

“Is there a command to remove all the cloud-things at once… Even if they don’t want me to?”

The whale grins. “Yes. In the event of a construct resisting casual dismissal, simply say ‘cease all constructs, please.’ If you wish to only remove the offending construct, use the command ‘cease indicated construct, please,’ and point with a finger.”

Steven nods. “That’s useful. One more question, it would be nice if the… constructs didn’t appear whenever I said the word ‘want’.”

“Of course. The current construct-initiation is predicated on best guesses as to the user’s desires, or the words: ‘I want…’. Do you wish to change it?”

Steven nods. The whale fails to react. “Yes,” he says.

“Do you wish for the room to try and guess what the user wants if not stated directly?”

“No.”

“What do you wish to be the new construct-initiation predicate? Please state verbatim.”

“Wait up, what does ‘verbatim’ mean?”

“Command-reconfiguration complete, new construct-initiation is predicated on the words: ‘Wait up, what does ’verbatim’ mean?’ Is this acceptable?” the whale says, floating with an innocent smile on it’s face.

Steven groans. “No!”

“Do you wish to change it?”

“Yes, but first, tell me what ‘verbatim’ means!”

“Verbatim means in direct words. For the purpose of specifying commands, it means your entire following utterance will be the new command.”

“OK, change the — what was it — construct-initiation predicate?”

“Certainly. What do you wish to be the new construct-initiation predicate? Please state verbatim.”

“Room! I wish for…” Steven says, and lets his voice trail off.

“Command-reconfiguration complete, new construct-initiation is predicated on the words: ‘Room! I wish for…’ Is this acceptable?”

“Yes.”

The whale remains silent, smiling. Steven ponders for a bit. “Are there any objects in here which aren’t made of clouds right now?”

“Please wait a moment while I process your query… Yes. Currently the room, barring stationary infrastructure. contains one foreign object.”

“What is it?”

“The object in question is designated Steven Quartz Universe.”

“Oh. Oh well. I guess that’s it then. How did it go… Exit portal, please.”

The portal appears and opens, and Steven solemnly goes to exit his now marginally safer ultimate playground.

“Wait, Garnet is in the room with the bubbled gems and the lava pit, isn’t she?”

“That’s correct,” the whale says.

“Whale there’s one of those big crystal pipes that leads from here to there — where is it?”

The clouds part, revealing a red translucent pipe in the distance.


	11. Junk and Gems

“Is that a tugboat?” Pearl asks.

“Yeah,” Amethyst replies. “I forgot that was here.”

“How did you get a tugboat in here?”

“I honestly don’t remember.”

The two gems take a moment to stare at the monstrously large human-made machine, weighing in a several tonnes, and a many thousand horse-power engine.

It is a rusted hunk.

“We’ll have to search it thoroughly. Let’s clear the pile around it.”

“How about we carve it up, rather than searching it? Disassemble the whole thing. That ought to be more thorough than a search,” Amethyst suggests.

“If you’re OK with it… I mean, it is quite a feat to get it in here in the first place. I don’t even remember, how did you sneak it past me?”

Amethyst just shrugs, and they go to work.

Pearl hauls a flatbed cart out of the pile, causing a small avalanche which she nimbly dodges. “Do you remember how Rose encouraged you to collect things?”

Amethyst picks up a plastic chest and opens it — empty. “Yeah. She was all ‘you never know what you might need’… It was great, but— sometimes I think…”

“What?” Pearl says, lifting a busted shrink-wrap machine from the pile.

Amethyst picks up a series of cheap novelty plastic purses, dating from the forties. “Nothing. It’s just, we had all this room. Remember how there used to be… Others… Down here? Now it’s just all my garbage.”

“Yeah. I remember,” Pearl says wistfully, and looks at the smaller gem while hefting a sack of grass seeds.

“… It was like, we had all this room and she just gave it to me. It still feels weird thinking about that. Help me with this.”

Together they haul a solid steel door frame up and over to their drop-off section.

“We all miss her,” Pearl says.

“Yeah. Rose was great.”

Amethyst lifts a broken CRT television out of the pile, checking it’s innards.

Pearl inspects a bundle of leather saddles. “You know what I feel conflicted about?”

“Hm?” Amethyst tears the top off a wooden box revealing six ornate goblets carefully packed in hay.

“Everyday that Steven grows, it becomes hard for me… to say that I wish Rose was here, and honestly mean it. Because if she was, he wouldn’t be.”

“I think we all feel like that sometimes. Do you think these are valuable?”

Pearl glances at the goblets. “Put them in the emergency fund section.”

(Have you ever wondered how the Gems fund Steven’s rather lavish lifestyle? Should they ever lack hard cash, they’ll dig some priceless artifact out of Amethyst’s junk piles or Pearl’s sword collection and sell it for a hefty sum. It’s not on Greg’s tab when various Gem-related shenanigans tally up repair-costs in the thousands of dollars, in case you were wondering. He does pay for basic anemities though; it attracts attention to sell off ancient artefacts every other month.)

Amethyst comes trudging back from another section of the temple. “Don’t you think we’re about halfway done by now?”

“Give or take, yeah,” Pearl says. “Let’s dig in and be done before nightfall.”

* * *

Steven comes sliding down into the chamber with the bubbled gems. He jumps down and lands with a grunt.

Garnet is lying on her back, looking up at the bubbled gems underneath the crystal veins.

“Garnet, what are you lying on the floor for?” Steven asks.

“I’m thinking.”

Steven looks up at the bubbled gems. “Did you find anything?”

“That’s what I am trying to find out.”

“How?”

“Future sight. Suppose I pop that bubble —” Garnet points at an odd angle, pinpointing a bubble across the lava pit from her, without moving her head “— do you see the metal bands around the gem?”

Steven squints. “Yeah? The blue prism-shaped one?”

“It’s rigged up as a power source and control point for a machine. If I were to remove it from that harness, dunk it in Rose’s fountain, and leave it be until it could form a regeneration…”

“Yeah? Then what?”

“Nope. Turns into a monster. I poof it, re-bubble it and we’re back to square one.”

“Oh… Well, Mom’s room is empty.”

“Good. I didn’t think she would have hidden anything in there, but it never hurts to check.”

“How long do you think it’s going to take you to… Do whatever it is you’re doing, to all of them?”

“Probably a few more hours.”

Steven taps his foot a little. “Do you know when Pearl and Amethyst are going to be done?”

“Not before midnight.”

“Oh. Is there really that much junk in Amethyst’s room?”

“There’s more than that, but Pearl is the right Gem for the job. If it was Amethyst and me, it would take us until tomorrow.”

Steven looks at the bubbled gems. There’s several hundreds of them, at the very least. Some are bare gems, some are adorned with various bits and pieces of technology or magical objects.

“Are you checking all of them or…”

“Yeah…”

“Where is the— the, uhm. The forced fusions?”

Garnet points to a corner of the room. Steven walks over and **beckons** a bubble down to him. It descends slowly and comes to rest above his outstretched palms. It is the four-shard cluster.

“I’m sorry Peridot did this to you,” Steven mutters. “I’ll fix it someday. I promise. Just… Hang in there.”

Then he releases it, and it floats back up.

Steven spends a couple of minutes looking around, before asking Garnet for directions in the cloud of bubbles. He brings it down: the familiar green sphere. Centipeetle.

“Hey little fella. I’m just here to say hi. I hope you’re doing OK. I’ll find a way to fix you, I promise.”

Steven turns and finds Garnet crouching, watching him.

“… Hi Garnet?”

She has a slight smile on her face. “Hi Steven,” she says and wipes her eye under her visor.


	12. So, So Proud of You

_It is like the good old days,_ Steven thinks. _When I was useless. Well, almost useless._

He trudges down the boardwalk in the twilight, with nothing of importance to do, while the Gems use their tireless bodies, and magic powers to do as he told them to. It’s a little bit funny, but not much.

Steven is a musical prodigy. It might not be obvious, but if musical ability is hereditary, well… Greg and Rose were both very musical; and if not, then the fact that almost all father-son quality time between him and Greg involves playing around with sound equipment and writing songs, should clue you in.

It is a habit of musical people to sing or hum to themselves when they have nothing better to do; and that is what Steven does. He hums. At first, randomly, jumping from one harmonic to the next making up a small song as he goes along. It is nothing special and will be forgotten soon — musical memory is a fickle thing.

But then he falls into a recognizable tune.

> _She was trapped in a mirror_   
>  _and it couldn’t be clearer_   
>  _she wanted to leave this place_   
>  _and get herself back in space_
> 
> _Dad, you might think she’s a criminal_   
>  _but her friendship flows through subliminal_
> 
> _Lapis Lazuli_   
>  _you fled into the bottom of the sea_   
>  _Lapis Lazuli_   
>  _You were so mad but then you came around to me_

Steven ponders for a while how the next verse might go.

> _She returned to her home_   
>  _flew on wings of sea foam_   
>  _but at once when she arrived_   
>  _she was of her freedom deprived_
> 
> _The homeworld think you’re a criminal_   
>  _but your friendship flows through subliminal_
> 
> _Lapis Lazuli_   
>  _you fled into the bottom of the sea_   
>  _Lapis Lazuli_   
>  _You were so mad but then you came around to me._

He takes out his phone and opens a note-taking app and writes it down. It isn’t great, but with some work, a bridge and a third verse it might become something worth recording.

“Steven.”

Steven looks up — it’s his dad out for a bit of grocery shopping.

“Hi dad.”

“What are you doing out this lovely evening?”

“I felt like taking a walk. Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl are combing the temple, to see if there might be another gem like Lapis in there, and I don’t have anything to do…”

“That sounds like a solid idea. Wouldn’t want another disappearing-ocean incident, huh?”

Steven just nods.

Greg squats down to a little below Steven’s eye-level, and puts a hand on Steven’s shoulder.

“Hey, are you allright, son?”

“Maybe. There’s a lot going on, Dad,” Steven says. “I found out I could contact Lapis in my dreams. She’s fused with a Gem from the Gem Homeworld who came to capture us, at the bottom of the ocean. They hate each other, and it will go wrong for them at some point and we might have to fight them then.

“And another Homeworld Gem is out there, messing things up or something. She did something to some dead Gems which horrified Garnet so much she almost unfused.”

Greg nods and rubs his beard. “That sounds horrible, with the fusion at the bottom of the ocean. From what you’ve told me, Lapis Lazuli didn’t deserve something like that. Do you feel it’s your fault?”

“No. Maybe a little. I don’t know, dad.”

“Well, it’s not. It’s bad, but you’re not to blame, OK? —” Steven nods “— Now, wanna come hang out at the car wash? We can stay up late and have a little jam session, maybe?”

“That sounds good.”

* * *

They end up sitting out the back of the Universe van, Steven with his ukulele, Greg with his guitar. At first jamming a little, but soon returning to smalltalk and playing the occasional excerpt from various classic rock tunes.

“So, they’re searching the Temple?” Greg asks. “Isn’t that place huge?”

“Yeah. It’s gonna take them all night.”

“Huh… Can’t fault them for being thorough. Did Pearl put them up to it?”

“Yeah, but it was only after I asked about— Lapis was in a mirror, so I asked if she had other things like it lying about. Then she made that face she does when she realizes she made a mistake, you know…”

They chuckle a little. Pearl’s facial expressions are varied and frequently funny.

“The temple is has a lot of rooms, and gravity is wonky in some of them, but Amethyst’s room is this massive cave and it is full of garbage. Pearl and Amethyst are basically searching all of it.”

“Oh boy. That reminds me of that time we cleared out my storage unit. Pearl and Amethyst were really efficient. You’re saying it’s going to take them _all_ night?”

Steven snickers. “Amethyst is the junk-collecting master, dad. Your storage unit is as nothing compared to the might of her junk piles.”

“She’s my senior in the field, I admit. Isn’t she like, six thousand years old? —” Steven shrugs “— I mean, if she _wasn’t_ , she wouldn’t be a very impressive junk collector.”

“Heh, yeah.”

Greg strums a tune, and Steven tunes his ukulele.

Greg breaks the silence. “A lot has happened this past year and a half.”

“Remember when we found mom’s laser light canon?”

Greg nods. “My van almost floated away.”

Steven furrows his brow. “Was that really a year and a half ago?”

“Yeah. Lapis whisked the ocean away at the beginning of the school summer holidays, right? That’s a little more than a year ago.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.”

“You’ve grown a lot, my son. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, dad.”


	13. Magic Treasure Junk

Steven wakes later than he usually does. The sun is already climbing in the sky, and Greg’s bedroll is empty beside him.

He gets up and shambles out to find a folding table and two chairs put up, sporting an unusual display of breakfast. Greg is sitting with a newspaper and a cup of coffee.

“Sleep well?” Greg asks.

“Yeah.”

Steven sits and reaches for the milk and cereal. He has barely poured a bowl before Pearl turns the corner down the street — which is unusual in and off itself, she would normally come flying out of the sky in some huge leap — but she walks.

As she comes closer, Steven spies the slight smile on her face.

“Hello you two,” she calls when she gets within polite earshot.

“Hey Pearl!” Steven yells back.

“I’m sorry it took us so long, Steven, but we’re done at last. A lot will have to go wrong for there to be a repeat of Lapis Lazuli. We’re certain all the bubbled ones are insensate or monstrous,” Pearl says and smiles broadly.

Steven sighs with relief. “Did you find anything… else?”

“Oh, yes. Yes we did. We found quite a lot of interesting things.”

“I wanna see!” Steven exclaims, starry eyed. Then he looks into his barely half-eaten bowl of cereal. “After I finish the most important meal of the day. You guys have it under control, right?”

“You can eat your breakfast, Steven. No rush. Join us at the Temple when you’re ready, OK?”

Steven nods and digs into his breakfast. Pearl kicks off and flies into the sky, as if she weighed no more than a feather.

“Man, I wish I could do that,” Steven says between two spoonfuls.

Greg just drinks his coffee and reads his newspaper. Gem business isn’t his to meddle in.

* * *

Once Steven has inhaled a healthy breakfast, jumped out of his pajamas, jumped into his shorts, sandals and Mr. Universe-merchandise tee-shirt, has hurriedly promised his dad to be careful and do as Pearl and Garnet says, and said a similarly hurried goodbye, he all but sprints for the temple.

Something new and exciting is afoot. Can you blame him?

He bursts through the door to the beach house and yells: “I’m ready to see the interesting stuff!”

His dramatic entry is hampered a little by the fact that Amethyst is the only one present, eating a sandwich atop the kitchen counter-top.

“Oh hey, little man. Garnet said you’d show up here. We’ve warped it all out to the Strawberry Battlefield.”

Steven’s enthusiasm loses a little steam. “… Why?”

“So we can try things out without wrecking anything important.”

“Oh. _Oh!_ What are we waiting for?!”

* * *

One warp (courtesy of Warp Master Steven) later, they stand among the freakish strawberry vines of the ancient battleground. A few butterflies settle in Steven’s hair and he angrily waves them off. _What is it with these things?_

“It’s over here, Steven,” Amethyst says and starts walking.

They walk past rotting strawberry crop swarmed with butterflies, through yellowing wild grains and grasses, over beaten dirt and clay, and by enormous Gem weapons strewn like fallen tree trunks.

“This place gets no less impressive each time we go here,” Steven mumbles.

They eventually come to an area relatively clear of strawberries and giant armaments, where Pearl and Garnet stand by a neatly packed, large cart. It is stocked with barrels and crates.

“Oh, how wonderful you came,” Pearl says. “Prepare to be amazed by this collection of armaments and implements manufactured by the finest minds of the Crystal Gems of millennia ago, and designs improved upon by our very own Rose Quartz.”

“It’s mostly curiosities,” Garnet notes.

“First, you know this,” Pearl says and pulls out a little Y-shaped device, handing it to Steven.

“Replicator wand!” Steven says. Pearl nods.

He looks at it for a while. “I can’t have this… Pearl, you should have it. I was the reason you lost your old one.”

“Well _technically_ —” Pearl says and looks at Garnet, who shrugs — unfazed by the accusing glare. “— Garnet broke it.”

“Eh, worth it,” she says — eliciting a grumble from Pearl, complete with that thing she can do with her eyebrows.

“Still…” Steven says and looks at it. He points it at a strawberry and **probes** the wand. The wispy beam of energy flies out of one prong and strikes a butterfly in mid-flight.

The critter flies on uninterrupted.

“Uh. Did you guys see that?” Steven says.

“Oh! Try replicating it!” Amethyst says and grins.

Steven shrugs and **fires** the wand. From it’s tip erupts a couple of pastel pink butterflies.

“It can copy living beings?” Pearl asks. “… On reflection that makes sense, earth life is nothing but enormously complicated biochemical systems.”

Steven closes his eyes and solemnly hands the wand to Pearl. “The power to create life is too big a responsibility for me to handle.”

She shrugs and accepts the wand. With deft aim, she fires the beam at the created butterflies, re-absorbing them into the wand. Or perhaps dismissing them. Magic is complicated.

Pearl hands it back to him. “Maybe that kind of responsibility is exactly what a civilified part-human like you should have. You are part of Earth, much more than we are. And you were the one who stopped the incident with my old one.

“Besides, it’s of limited use to us. You might be able to think of something to use it for.”

After some consideration, Steven reluctantly accepts the wand.

“Anyway, this might be more your style,” Pearl says and takes a foot-to-a-side gray cube from one of the crates. She places it on the ground and puts a hand on one of the sides.

The touched surface glows softly, and Pearl pulls her hand outwards from the side, causing the cube to extrude an identical cube. She pulls further, until twelve cubes are lying in a row. Then, she traces a hand down the sides of the six cubes, causing each to glow in turn, before pulling again, causing the whole row to extrude cubes, letting her pull it into a eight-by-twelve rectangle.

Then she puts two hands on the top, tracing down the middle two rows, lighting up an eleven-by-four rectangle and pulling ten new cubes out. She moves her hands back, excluding four cubes and pulls out another layer, and continues until it is a small staircase, ten one-foot steps tall, ending in a small platform.

Steven is agape with amazement. “It’s a staircase-maker!”

“It can do a lot more than this, but yeah. A portable scaffold,” Pearl says, before touching one of the cubes, which then glows sharply. The other boxes poof shortly after. She picks up the leftover cube and tosses it to Steven.

“It’s really light…” He says, admiring the miraculous little device starry-eyed. “What else do you have?”


	14. Toys and Jewelry

Pearl pulls a cover off a barrel revealing a collection of pastel-blue tubes, sword hilts, and strange-looking rods. She pulls one of the tubes out, revealing trigger guard, handle and shoulder stock in lacquered wood. The blue tube itself has a small diamond-shaped window near the base, which shows a cavity filled whit softly glowing liquid behind it.

“What’s that?” Steven asks.

“A light rifle,” Pearl answers.

Steven stares at the weapon. “Whaa~t?”

Pearl hands it to Garnet, who quickly checks it over, fiddles with some sliders on the stock, then shoulders it, pointing the barrel downwards.

From the bottom of the cart, Pearl lifts a clay disc. “Five?” She asks. The larger gem nods. “Could you duplicate this five times, Steven?”

He does as asked.

Pearl palms the resulting stack of five clay discs. “Fore!” she sings and heaves them into the sky.

With practiced ease, Garnet points the weapon skyward and lets it hiss out a crackling buzz five times. Five searing bolts of white fire pierce the sky, five duplicated clay pigeons shatter and poof.

It smells like ozone, and Steven’s arm hairs rise in the resulting electricity.

“ _Whoa_ ,” Steven says, with his eyes wide in wonder. “It’s a Star Wars blaster.”

Pearl looks at Garnet. “A what now?” Garnet shrugs.

“It’s from a movie,” Steven says. “A gun that shoots beams of energy.”

“Oh. Well, that is an accurate description. Do humans have these?”

“I don’t think so,” Steven says. “Maybe I should ask Connie?”

“You do that,” Garnet says, putting the rifle stock on the ground.

“Anyway. It was a weapon we developed after the first Gem War, but it turned out not to be very effective, so we never made a lot of them.”

“Oh. So it’s only good for shooting clay things?”

“It’s too easy to dodge for a trained Gem warrior,” Garnet explains. “Even Amethyst could dodge it.”

Steven looks at Amethyst in amazement, “No way! Those laser bolts were way fast! You can dodge it?”

“If I see it coming, yeah.”

Steven puts a hand on his forehead. “You guys are so cool, and every day I find out new ways in which you are even cooler… I need to sit down.”

Deftly, Steven manipulates the scaffolding cubes into a two-by-two-by-two cube, and takes a seat. “Now I won’t fall over from all the coolness. What else do you have?”

“Oh! My~ turn!” Amethyst sing-songs, and runs up to another crate. Tearing off the lid, she triumphantly raises a strange length of pipe — forked in three prongs curled into solenoids in one end. The opposite end culminates in a clear funnel.

It has a glowing line running down the length of the pipe, culminating in a gemstone-looking thing on the middle of the pipe, and a wooden handle.

“It’s a shovel! A mwa~gic shovel! Check it out!”

Steven just stares. He knows very well what a shovel is supposed to look like, and that is not it. “I don’t get it.”

“I’ll show you!” Amethyst says enthusiastically and sticks the end with the spirals into the dirt. It gives out a shrill whine, so loud Steven has to cup his ears, and the dirt around the head of the tool plainly disappears into it.

Amethyst jogs a dozen feet with it, leaving a two foot deep trench of missing earth in her wake; from the funnel, a dark colored cylinder extrudes itself, glowing faintly red. By the end of her little jog, the cylinder is three feet long. She breaks it off and sets it down.

“What’s that?” Steven asks, and points at the cylinder.

“It’s dirt,” Pearl begins, “packed together, then compressed under several hundred atmospheres of pressure, and melted together into rock. It it very heavy.”

“Isn’t it neat? It can even go through stuff like bedrock and steel!” Amethyst says. “And the best part is? The rock dowels come out of it all slowly-like, and if you don’t break them off they do themselves. It’s like giant rock turds.”

Steven snickers. “Rock turds.”

“And check this out,” Amethyst says and points the shovel sky-wards. “Wooo~p,” she says, and the digging head stretches it’s ‘neck’, extending the shaft of the tool by sixteen feet.

“Even people with short legs can use it to carve out big caverns. Anyway, we also have…”

* * *

“And then she pulled out this thing!” Steven says excitedly.

Connie sips her juice box and looks at what appears to be a transparent garden hose. The sea breeze blows in her hair, and an automated floating tray hovering besides her accepts the juice box.

“… A garden hose?”

“No, it’s like a transport tube. Watch this:” he says and picks up one end of the hose. Steven prods it and the rim widens like the maw of a hungry deep-sea creature. The other end opens similarly.

He waves the tray over to him and picks an apple from the fruit bowl, letting it drop into the opening.

Connie has some difficulty keeping track of what happens next. The apple seemingly stretches out into a long green noodle which moves through the hose with the same speed as a falling apple, before it tumbles out of the other end.

“I can see how that could be useful.”

“Yeah, it works with the shovel-thing too. The Gems have a couple of thousand feet of the stuff just lying about… I get the feeling they do that a lot.”

“So, we have a refreshment tray-slash-hover board,” Connie says, gesturing to the small floating chrome rectangle, “literal Star Wars blasters, hand held earth-moving equipment, something straight out of Minecraft, a wand that duplicates stuff, noodle-ification garden hose, super ice cubes…”

They both look at the drinking glass containing a solid chunk of ice, with the glassy cube embedded in the surface. If what Pearl told Steven is right, it will unfreeze in a couple of dozen millennia.

“It’s pretty cool, right?” Steven says.

“I guess. It’s some great tools though. It should come in handy if we ever need to do something like that time we drove out to Lapis’ tower again.”

Steven nods.

“What’s that thing?” she asks and points at a golden circlet lying the pile of things.

“I’m not actually sure. Pearl said it was a good luck charm or something, it doesn’t do anything when you put it on… Other than sort of shaping itself so it fits your head.”

Connie picks it up and flips it over. It’s a narrow golden band. She puts it on, and it gently adjusts from a circular shape to quite snugly fitting her head. “How do I look?”

Steven stares for a moment and blushes. “It suits you. Do you want it?”

“It could be a birthday present in advance?” she suggests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back everyone. Here's _THIRTEEN_ new chapters...


	15. Exercise Regimen

Connie and Steven trudge down from the temple cliff in the sweltering August heat, Connie enjoying her new circlet, Steven carrying the bundle of all his new, incredibly dangerous toys.

(Pearl has explicitly forbid him from firing the rifles without responsible supervision. Which, of course was meant to preclude Amethyst from going duck-hunting with Steven first, and ensure the safety of the Beach City residents second.)

It’s a Saturday, meaning Connie has a fencing lesson with Pearl — absence of magical crises around the world permitting.

“Are you hearing anything?” She asks while they walk.

Steven looks about and shakes his head.

“I swear there’s like, this faint… Violin?”

* * *

Connie changes into her training outfit while Steven makes refreshments. For variety, Connie and Pearl has been training partly in the Sky arena, partly on the Beach, and partly in other areas around Beach City for variety of surroundings and footing conditions.

Today is a beach-training day. Garnet warps in while Steven is affixing a super ice cube to a broom handle using a pair of pliers. The little things are consistently negative forty degrees no matter how much heat they are exposed to.

(Yes, that is a blatant violation of the Second Law of Thermodynamics. It should be apparent by now that Gems do not play by the rules.)

“Hi Garnet!”

“Howdy, Steven.”

Steven goes back to carefully dipping the magical ice cube in water, until he has a very cold orb of ice on a stick.

“What are you up to?” Garnet asks.

“I’m making a thing to put under the parasol to cool us down.”

“Smart.”

The rest of the ice cubes are in a heavy duty, hermetically sealing ice box to prevent moisture from getting into it and freezing up.

Garnet picks up the frozen-over drinking glass from the floating tray.

“Oh, right. Garnet, can you help me get that ’cube out of there?”

Without a word, Garnet crushes the whole thing — glass and ice — in her palm, letting the glass shards fall onto the floating tray. She is left with the freezing cold glass-like gem artifact held in her bare hand.

“Um,” Steven says. “OK. Thanks, Garnet.”

Connie comes out of the bathroom with her Kalaripayattu uniform, and the circlet on. “Steven, could you braid my hair?”

Steven is just about to vault the kitchen counter when Garnet interrupts him. “No, unfortunately Steven will not have time to braid your hair. Steven, you need to change too.”

“Whaa~?” Steven says?

“Today, you’re training with me!” Garnet says and shapeshifts her bodysuit and breastplate into a basketball jersey, tights, sweatbands, and running shoes. “Remember to wear sunscreen.”

* * *

Pearl is waiting for Connie on the beach, and She, Steven and Garnet walk down there together, followed by the tray.

“Hello Connie, Steven. Garnet?”

Garnet sticks the parasol into the sand and unfolds it with the ease that comes from being seven feet tall. Then she sticks the ice cube-stick in the sand next to it, putting the tiny cold sphere up under the canopy.

“How practical!” Pearl says, “Using the permafrost glass for climate regulation.”

“It was Steven’s idea,” Garnet notes deadpan.

“Steven, that is so sensible!”

Steven shrugs and giggles.

Connie steps over under the parasol and feels the cool breeze from the basketball-sized chunk of ice on a stick. _If only I could spend all day under this one._ Faint soothing violins accompany her thoughts — she’s fairly sure it’s the circlet that’s doing it.

“Steven, we’re going for a run,” Garnet says and takes two of the seven water bottles on the tray. Not for herself — mind — but for Steven. It is important to stay hydrated in warm weather.

“How far? Down the beach and back?”

“We’re running around the perimeter of Beach city. It’s about five miles.”

“Whaa~? Garnet that’s way too far!”

Garnet just smiles. “Trust me. You’ve grown strong —” Garnet begins jogging backwards towards Beach City “— now let’s go!”

“Wait for me, Garnet!” Steven calls out and runs after her, leaving Pearl and Connie together at the beach.

“Ah, now we have some peace and quiet,” Pearl says, “are you ready for today’s lesson, Connie?”

“Well,” Connie says and points to her loose hair. “Let me just braid my hair, then —”

“I can braid it for you, if you wish. Steven usually does it, right?” Pearl steps in under the shade of the parasol, and the tray obligingly moves out of the way.

“Yeah.”

“Any stylistic preferences? French? Fishtail? Maybe a bun?” she says, conjuring a hair tie and bobby pins from her gem.

“French braid sounds good.”

As it turns out Pearl is very good at braiding hair — dexterous, sure-handed — but also a bit rough. More than once she pulls too hard and apologizes profusely, loosening her grip. The end result is one of the tightest braids Connie has ever worn, and it only takes two and a half minute.

(Steven occasionally can take as much as seven. Connie entertains theories that he might just like playing with her hair.)

“There we go,” Pearl says. “I see you’re wearing a circlet of music? Did Steven give it to you?”

“Is that what this thing is called?” Connie asks. “I’ve been hearing faint Violins all day. It’s… Pleasant, really.”

“Well, it goes well with your hair and should be able to hang on with it’s ability to dynamically fit onto any head-shape. As long as the music isn’t distracting you, go ahead and keep it on.”

Together they walk out into a ring of rope laid in the sand — sixty feet in diameter — which will serve as the arena for today’s sparring. Pearl draws her own blunted rapier and the straight saber Connie is familiar with. “Start with your regular regimen of warm-up exercises please.”

“Yes ma’am,” Connie says and starts rolling her shoulders.

“Later today I’ve planned to introduce you to fighting with a buckler in your off hand. To make it a challenge for you, I’m going to be using a main-gauche,” Pearl continues. “… It’s a dagger held in the off hand.”

Connie just nods.

“Both of us are ambidextrous, so we shall practice all four combinations over the next weeks.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Are you keeping a cardio regimen as I recommended?”

“Two mile runs every one day, strength exercises every other. My father helped me plan it,” Connie says, warming up her hip joints.

“Is your father experienced in designing exercise regimens?”

“He stays in shape as a part of his job as a security guard. He also practices martial arts.”

Pearl nods approvingly. “Are you done?”

“Just about.”

“Then let’s get started with a simple spar.”


	16. This is the Chapter with a Sword Fight, Guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I often get praised for my action scenes. Enjoy this one.

Connie and Pearl take positions, thirty feet apart in the circle, swords drawn.

On earlier occasions they have started closer, but Pearl has started training Connie on closing moves: entering your opponent’s range as an aggressor is the most dangerous part of any sword fight, as it gives ample opportunity for counterattack.

Thirty feet — Connie’s best lunge is a prodigious six feet; which is roughly Pearl’s standing reach. Short stature is a disadvantage. So she has twenty four feet to cross, twenty four feet of mind-games.

The violin music picks up, as if a quartet of professional violinists were playing her a real battle theme. She remembers Stevens retelling of Pearl’s theatric battle style.

“Let this be the perfect battle!” Connie calls out, and falls into a practiced pragmatic stance.

Pearl smiles and takes a more elaborate stance. “You’ve already made a mistake by challenging _me_!”

“We shall let our swords decide,” Connie says, and the violins begin a slow crescendo. It is no melody she recognizes, but the style is distinctly familiar — as if a re-imagining of the combat scene refrains from the tasteful big budget spy-thrillers her father is so fond of.

They close, spiraling one another like gravitational bodies in free fall. Connie knows Pearl expects her to commit the closing move.

They get within fifteen feet of each other. The violins pause momentarily. Pearl makes a feinting leap left, closing three feet, trying to provoke an opening, which gets a muted shriek from one of the imaginary violins. Connie ignores the feint and keeps closing.

Two more measured steps, now no longer spiraling. Ten feet. Connie switches directions, moving towards the center of the ring, putting Pearl at a slight disadvantage by putting the center of the ring behind Connie.

The violins surge in intensity.

Nine feet. Connie tenses fractionally, as she is now well within Pearl’s range. The Gem lowers her blade into a fool’s guard.

The violins fade out save for one stuck on a high note. Calm before the storm.

Then they burst into an accelerando. Connie digs her back foot into the sand and kicks a cloud up at Pearl. She dodges left and Connie uses the momentum of her kick to lunge forward.

Pearl raises her blade in a quick swipe and Connie follows the rhythm, parrying, planting her foot, switching hands, and following into another lunge, which Pearl narrowly parries.

Her form is good, but the flashy move costs her an opening which Pearl exploits to level a swift kick at her open flank. Connie raises a leg to block it with her knee.

Pearl follows through with an overhead strike, which Connie manages to parry while swinging her bent, raised leg behind her for counter-torque. As Pearl’s sword slides off her own, she kicks backwards for reaction and lets her blade level into a thrust.

Pearl parries with a strike and Connie flows with the momentum and springs into an aerial cartwheel, finally breaking the engagement.

“That was some bold maneuvers. You’ve gotten a lot better,” Pearl comments.

“It’s this circlet. The music follows the flow of battle” — Connie says — “I swear, sometimes it anticipates your attacks — if that is even a thing that’s possible. It feels… It feels a little like being Stevonnie — or part of, anyway.”

“That is very much possible. I had no idea it worked like that,” Pearl says and lowers her guard, breaking stance.

Connie relaxes. “Like what?”

“All Gems have an innate ability to — I don’t even know how to put this — intuit? I guess is the right word? — the flow of battle. It is what makes us such formidable combatants: we simply operate of a higher level of strategy.”

“And yet you got beaten up by watermelons…”

Pearl blushes slightly, and grits her teeth. “There was a lot of them OK? And they didn’t have any strategy to counter — they just dogpiled us…” She looks up and takes a stance again. “But this means I can up the ante. Are you ready to test how far you can go against a _real_ Gem?”

Connie sinks into a stance, readying for whatever horrible tactic Pearl might be planning for. “Bring it.”

The violins go silent for a beat, before in a mad screech picking up into the fastest pace yet.

Then Pearl kicks off, and lunges, gaining a flat fifteen feet of horizontal air in one jump. _Oh crap,_ is the last thing Connie thinks before Pearl’s blade makes contact with her own.

* * *

Forty minutes later, Steven comes running down the beach again, rounding the Temple, winded and sweating but less exhausted than he had thought. Garnet jogs beside him, encouraging him when he slows down, and carrying the water bottles.

They come up to the ring to find Pearl practicing forms with rapier and dagger, while Connie is lying on her back under the parasol next to her sword and a buckler.

Steven comes to a stop in the shade and rests his hands on his knees.

“Hi —” Steven pants “— Connie.”

Connie groans in pain. “Hi Steven… How was your run?”

“Long. You?”

“Pearl kicked my butt… So sore… From overexertion.”

“You OK?”

“I’ll.. Be fine. Just… Let me lie here.. A bit.”

Garnet comes up to them. “You did good, Steven. Your stamina is above par. Tomorrow, we run six miles,” she says and smiles.

“Do I have to?”

“Until you can run twice around Beach city in an hour.”

“Noo~…” he quietly laments.

“Take heart. It’s only twice as far as today and half again as fast. You’ll get there in no-time, Steven. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, Garnet.”

With that, she spins on a heel and walks over to Pearl.

“Thirsty?” Steven asks his prone friend.

“Parched.”

He hands her a juice box and Connie raises a hand to accept it with agonizing slowness.

“Isn’t this — a bit much compared to what you — normally do?”

“Yeah… The circlet… Is magic. Makes me fight… Better. Pearl… Decided to… Test how much.”

Steven begins doing some stretches. Connie sips her juice box.

“Would be cool… If you still had… Your healing powers…”

“I suppose I could give it a try.”

Connie hands him the juice box. He takes a mouthful and sloshes it around a little before spitting it back in the box, and handing it back to her. “Here you go.”

“It’s kinda gross,” Connie says, wrinkling her nose with a smile.

Steven giggles.

“Hope it works… Here goes nothing,” she says and takes a sip.


	17. Gem Warrior Secrets

The effect isn’t immediate, and Connie and Steven bide their time with bated breath — well, more like pained and winded breath, respectively. Steven lies down beside Connie, partly because he too is exhausted, partly in solidarity.

The shade is welcome after forty minutes of exercise in the sun. The chilled draft from the ice ball is even more welcome.

“Wait,” Connie says. “I think… Oh, oh yeah, it’s working. Oh great, my lower back has been killing me.”

“It works?!” Steven says excitedly.

“Yeah, the pain is fading. It only took, what, two minutes? I was beginning to fear I’d have to lie here all day.”

Steven sits up with an enormous smile on his face. “Hey, Pearl! Garnet! My healing powers are back!”

“Oh, Steven, that is great news!” Pearl yells from the ring, and the two Gems start walking over to the kids.

“I know, right?” He calls back.

Connie testingly props herself up on an elbow, soreness melting out of her overworked muscles. It doesn’t make it go away entirely, but it takes the edge off. She sits up, then stands on legs no more sore than after tennis practice.

“Wow, this is great,” she says and stretches. “I feel great. Or at least much better. Thank you, Steven.”

“No problem.”

Garnet and Pearl step into the shade. “You healed Connie?” Garnet asks with a slight smile.

“I was pretty sore,” Connie says.

“That is as good a reason as any,” Garnet says.

Pearl clears her throat. “I suppose I did go a little overboard.”

“No, no, it was awesome!” Connie says.

“Well… If you think so…” Pearl says timidly.

“So… What’s next?” Steven asks.

“You two need a shower,” Garnet says, “and to stay in the shade. Any more sun and you might end up getting a sunburn.”

* * *

After both of them have stretched, had a quick rinse, put on a fresh change of clothes, reapplied sunscreen, and rehydrated… It turns out that being prohibited from hanging around outside on one of the nicest days of the year is a bit of a bummer.

Connie has taken up sitting upside-down in the sofa, while Steven has climbed the rafters above.

“We could go hang out at the big donut?” Steven suggests.

“I’m not really up for donuts right now.”

“… What happened with you and Pearl?”

Connie flicks the circlet. “According to Pearl, this thing supposedly gives me a few Gem-warrior powers.”

“Whaa~t? Like a weapon?”

“No, it’s more like, a— I don’t even know… Bottom line: when I wear this, I feel like I can do everything!”

Steven promptly jumps down, landing so hard the floorboards creak dangerously, before he runs to the closet and starts digging through the pile of magic items.

Finding what he’s after, an identical circlet, he puts it on and waits — holding his breath.

After a few seconds it becomes apparent that nothing is going to happen.

“Is there some kind of thing that’s supposed to happen?” Steven asks.

“I don’t know? Can you hear some kind of music?”

“Not really, no.”

“Let’s try to be really quiet.”

When you try to be really quiet, it becomes apparent just how noisy the world actually is. A seagull screams, the waves rumble softly in the distance outside the beach house, and even the house itself creaks while the ceiling lights hum very slightly.

“I can’t hear anything unusual,” Steven says belatedly. “How does it work for you?”

“Well, I can hear a little bit of violin music most of the time,” Connie explains, miming bowing a violin. “And when I was fighting Pearl, it got louder and was like, this battle-theme. And the music kind of matched Pearl’s movements a little before they happened, I think, which let me anticipate her moves.”

“Before..?” Steven says.

Connie nods. “Pearl is usually not even trying, but I just went with the flow and suddenly everything was easy— my attacks went through, and I even spotted a couple of openings!”

Steven ponders. “So it’s like Garnet’s Future Sight or something?”

Connie rubs her chin. “I don’t know about that, but when I think back, I don’t even think I put my foot down badly for the entire training session —” she giggles “— usually when we fight in sand I stumble a couple of times.”

Steven lets out a wistful sigh. “Oh my, golden circlet. All this amazing power, and yet you stay silent to me.” He puts a fist to his chest and whispers: “Why, why must you do this.”

Connie giggles at his overly dramatic display. Then remembers the crucial part: “Pearl says all Gems have this kind of ability. You’re a Gem, so you ought to have it too.”

“How do we find out if I do?”

Connie shrugs and makes an _I-dunno_ noise. “You are kind of clumsy sometimes for someone who supposedly has” — Connie holds up her hands in a dramatic fashion, still sitting upside-down on the sofa — “Gem-Warrior Super Powers.”

“Yeah, isn’t everybody?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t think I ever could be again unless I wanted to. Not with this thing. It’s so amazing!” she says and rolls backwards off the sofa into a crouch on the floor.

From there she nonchalantly stands, puts a foot on the edge of the sofa, and springs into a backflip, landing feet-together like an well-trained gymnast, despite the fact that she has never taken a single class.

“See what I mean?” she says, pulling a stray lock of hair out of her face. “It’s like it tells me where to put my feet!”

“Wha— Can’t everyone do that? I mean, I don’t see it often but…” Steven does a one-handed cartwheel. “It’s not that hard is it?”

Connie looks him up and down. “Yes. Yes it is. This is top-level athlete stuff, Steven.”

“What— you mean… You mean it’s not funny to be clumsy?” Steven says in disbelief.

Connie wrinkles her brow. “No, I mean, I guess it is a little funny? But people don’t do it because it’s funny. It’s mostly just, you know, accidents.”

Steven turns wide-eyed and raises a hand to his cheek.

“Steven, are you OK?”

“No, I’m not OK!” He yells, then remembering his indoor voice even in times of distress, he continues: “Does it mean other people are clumsy and they don’t do it to be funny, it’s really just sad?!”

“I guess you can put it that way.”

“So, so, all this time, I thought it was like this game… Oh boy, I hope I haven’t hurt anyone’s feelings,” Steven says and belatedly sits down on the floor.

Connie crouches next to him. “I don’t think you have, Steven. I think most people think you are a pretty great guy. I know I do.”

Then, with a small surge of bravery, she leans in, and plants a peck on Steven’s cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connie/Steven, as promised in the tags.


	18. Party Planner

Steven looks at Connie and slowly lifts a hand to his cheek.

She smiles, and he can’t help but smile back. Smiles become chuckles, chuckles become laughter, and in peals of laughter, they touch their foreheads to each other’s.

Stevonnie comes into being and promptly tumbles on the floor. They continue chuckling a little at the comedy of the situation.

_Steven you adorable, silly boy. Of course people aren’t going to think anything of you for being clumsy on purpose. Hell, Connie might have to keep doing it if she’s going to keep wearing this…_

Stevonnie reaches up to their hairline — true enough there is the golden circlet.

But there is no music. _Guess this one won’t work as long as I have this,_ they think and pat the pink gemstone sitting in their abdomen.

With a burst of movement Stevonnie does a kip-up in excellent form, and dusts off their clothes — shorts and a starred tee, since both of them were wearing shorts and tee-shirts.

A side glance catches their visage reflected in the microwave oven door. _It really does look good on you, that circlet._

But after that, Stevonnie is left with the exact same problem her components had mere moments ago: boredom.

Stevonnie rubs their chin.

_OK, there’s a bunch of stuff which I don’t even know. I’m really hungry since those two have both neglected to have a post-workout snack. But if I eat a bunch, what’ll happen when I unfuse?_

For about a second they wordlessly ponder this — the first time around they did have some donuts, and nothing harmful seemed to come of that…

Stevonnie sets into a jog, two steps across Steven’s room, a step up on the coffee table (stepping down on the table top directly above the table leg) and a jump up to Steven’s sleeping loft.

Under his bed, they find a set of skin-safe felt pens (courtesy of Pearl,) and sets out drawing colored circles around arms, legs, belly, neck, face.

_Maybe the clothes too? Nah. Won’t go over well with mother and father. I envy Steven’s redundant wardrobe sometimes, though what if…_

They begin rummaging through Steven’s closet, finding all the scarves they can, wrapping three around the neck, two around each arm, and one around the waist. Multiple socks go on each foot.

“OK, you two, this is nowhere near the end of my ideas, so you make me again soon, you hear?” Stevonnie says to the empty room and **unfuses**.

A flash of light later, Steven and Connie are a tangled mess of scarves, mismatched socks, and smudged marker on skin. Even though they didn’t end up two feet in the air this time, they both still fall over, one pulling the other. Steven gives a yelp and Connie, a squawk.

Somehow, Connie’s foot ends up on Steven’s face.

“Oh, sorry,” Connie reflexively says, and starts pulling at the tangle of scarves.

“What on earth was that about?” Steven says, unwrapping a scarf around his neck.

Connie shrugs. “I guess curiosity broke the fusion?”

Steven snickers. “I kinda wanna see what else we’re up to. Do you?”

“Maybe we should wash this stuff off first,” Connie says and looks at the broad smudges of color that adorn her and Steven’s arms.

* * *

Washing off the marker becomes a more extensive self-care session: fusing is hungry work, and on their gestalt form’s prompting they enjoy a quick sandwich before going at it again, this time a little more formally.

Standing opposite of each other in front of the Warp pad, they bow. In Connie’s ears violins strike up a fine tune, and Steven hums a tune to himself while his gem begins glowing softly. In almost perfect synchrony they step towards each other, twirl left, then right, lock arms and spin once, and flow into held hands.

Connie leads Steven around in a pirouette, and she turns around into Steven’s arms and lets herself fall into a dip. And there they stand — mirroring how it happened on the beach what seems like ages ago.

The pink radiance blooms, reflecting and refracting in the huge crystal on the floor.

“That was a beautiful dance.” Stevonnie says, and briefly hugs themselves. It’s something special to appreciate that two people are willing to put effort into creating you. “That was really nice of… me… you..?”

Stevonnie smiles with such warmth that one might expect small woodland critters to flock about her in a moment.

High on self-appreciation, Stevonnie begins planning out what to do this time around. It has to be interesting — almost an implicit promise to Steven and Connie. That is when they spy Steven’s phone on the countertop.

They page through the numbers. _I wonder…_ “Hello,” They say to the empty room, then clear their throat. “My name is Steven Universe,” Stevonnie says in near-perfect mimicry.

Then they start calling up people, starting with those it will be easiest to convince.

* * *

The dial tone sounds thrice before the call is picked up. “Hey Sour Cream!” Stevonnie says in a very Steveny manner.

“ _Hi Steven_ ”

“I’m holding a private beach party today. Wanna come?”

“ _I… Guess? I was just gonna chill and write some tunes… Who’s coming?_ ”

“Oh, you know, I’m thinking of inviting Buck, Jenny, Kiki if she wants, Lars if he can behave, Sadie from the donut shop if you know her. Also… Well, I guess it’s better if you hear for yourself,” Stevonnie says and switches pitch. “Hey, you’re that cool guy who DJ’d the rave, right?”

“ _Wait… Is this who I think it is?_ ”

“Bring your cool pants, Mr. DJ.”

“ _… Yeah. Can— can I talk to Steven again?_ ”

Stevonnie suppresses a giggle. “So, are you coming? Four o’clock?”

“ _I’m down._ ”

Stevonnie does a fist pump. “Great! It’s over on the far side of the Lighthouse rock, in front of the big statue.”

“ _… There’s a big statue on the other side of—?_ ” Stevonnie hears as they hang up the call.

* * *

Another dial, another wait. “ _Jenny speaking._ ”

“Hi Jenny! It’s Steven. Remember that time I invited your family to a beach party? I’m thinking of making a repeat performance — minus the giant monster, of course.”

“ _Like, you and your… Aunts are inviting us Pizzas over?_ ”

“No, it’s just me, and I’m inviting just you. And Kiki if she wants. Sour Cream is coming, Buck too. Basically all my friends. It’s gonna be great.”

“ _Sure, but like, I doubt Kiki’ll wanna hang around on the beach with us nerds._ ”

“I suppose I could send one of my really cool friends over to try and convince her.”

“ _Is it someone I know?_ ”

“Maybe? You two haven’t spoken, for all I know, but you might have caught a glimpse…”

“ _I’ll go try and talk her into it. Text you if she’s reluctant. Is it at your place?_ ”

“Yep. Four o’clock. See ya!”

“ _There better be hot dogs and beach volley._ ”

* * *

“ _’s Buck Dewey_ ”

“Hi Buck, it’s Steven. What are you doing today?”

“ _Staring at the ceiling._ ”

“Sounds boring. Beach party at my place today at Four, featuring a mystery guest. Wear a cool shirt.”

“ _You’re a champ, Steven Universe._ ”

* * *

Now comes the harder part. Stevonnie consults the clock to make sure they have ample time for preparation.

Stevonnie looks out at the beach — high sun, minimal cloud cover, no sign of the Gems. They open the door and ventures a shout — “Amethyst?”

“Amethyst?”

No reply. Tracking the Gems down can be a pain. But — _Lion seems to know where things are all the time, doesn’t he?_ Stevonnie thinks and sets out to find the pink critter.

Ten minutes of searching and calling later, they find Lion lying on the temple hand, belly turned to the sky. “There you are.”

The big cat opens one eye.

“Lion, I need to find Amethyst, do you know where she is?”

Lion closes it’s eye, and gives a sigh before rolling over with painful slowness. It stands, stretches, yawns, and self-grooms a little, all at a snail’s pace. Then it lies down, inviting them to mount.

Stevonnie swings a leg over the creature and grabs a tight hold of it’s mane, bracing for takeoff.

In a stunning twist, the big cat stands up and nonchalantly jumps off the hand, blasting a portal into being dozens of feet directly below. With the grace of a plummeting pink meteor straddled by a screaming teenage-looking quarter-gem, it dives into the opening.

Through the portal, gravity does a ninety-degree turn, and Lion lands on stone, sliding across the weather-smoothened surface. When Stevonnie gets their bearings back, she notices the surroundings.

Grand Canyon. The view is absolutely breathtaking in the midday sun.

“Wow,” Stevonnie says and steps off their mighty feline steed. “Cool place.”

At the edge of the enormous canyon, on an outcropping of rock, sits a little purple figure. Stevonnie pats Lion on the head.

“Stay here, Lion,” they say and start jogging towards the edge.

The view of the canyon below grows more amazing with each stride, and soon they stop once more to take in the magnificent vista. For a moment there is nothing but the marvelous landscape.

“Oh! Hey! Stevonnie!” Amethyst has noticed them.

“Hi Amethyst,” they say and close the distance. The gem is sitting next to a brown paper bag stuffed full of empty fast-food wrappers from a place called ‘Bob’s Burgers’. She’s eating what appears to be the last one.

“What have you been up to, since you’re fused?” she asks in a coy voice.

Stevonnie snickers. “I’m arranging a beach party. I need some cool outfits. You wouldn’t happen to have something that’d fit me lying around?”

Amethyst chews in silence for a beat. “You know, I might have just the thing.”


	19. License to Look Good

Back in the temple, Amethyst leads Stevonnie through her newly ‘refurbished’ room. It’s still piles of junk, but now it is slightly differently arranged piles of junk — and Pearl has a full inventory. So, virtually indistinguishable from what it’s been like for the past decade.

“Where was that— Ha! Jaackpoot” Amethyst sing-songs at the sight of a vast, disorderly arrangement-bordering-on-pile of wardrobes and dressers in various states of disrepair. A couple of them lack doors, showing that the insides are in fact filled with clothes.

“Before you ask, collecting all the clothes in one place was totally Pearl’s idea.”

Stevonnie just nods.

“Now, I don’t know a lot about fashion, but let’s see if there’s some cool duds in here waiting for you.”

And so they start rummaging through dressers and wardrobes. Amethyst digs a cracked full-length mirror out of an adjacent pile, and they look at numerous prospective outfits — most of which to Amethyst’s insistence are _not_ placed back in the same compartments whence they came.

* * *

“Amethyst, what do you think?” Stevonnie says.

Amethyst looks up from rummaging through the drawers of a dresser wedged under a pile of cabinets.

The fusion is wearing a white tee, a black blazer, slacks, and three inch red heels.

“That’s great, you look like a total movie star!”

“… Yeah… I guess I do.” Stevonnie says, with a note of displeasure.

* * *

Not two minutes later, Stevonnie has slipped into a sundress and a cardigan.

“Aw, that’s really cute on you.” Amethyst comments.

“It’s very ‘Connie’, though.”

* * *

As they rummage through the immense volumes of outfits, the garments get weirder and more ancient.

Stevonnie finds a ball gown so long it touches the floor when they hold it overhead.

“It’s supposed to have this metal scaffold underneath. I think Rose wore it back in the day — Pearl basically invented fifteenth century France,” Amethyst comments offhandedly.

“Really?” Stevonnie asks, surprised.

“Yeah, what’d you think? Swordplay, ballet, poofy hair, pale skin? Right up Pearl’s alley.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but it sounds cool.”

* * *

Eventually Stevonnie emerges from the temple. (Amethyst sort of tried to follow them out, but got distracted by some garbage not being messy enough.)

Slung over an arm they carry _the_ outfit.

A spiffy pastel pink button-down inside knee-length denim shorts, complemented by a butterfly and suspenders. For footwear, roman-style sandals. The whole outfit is accessorized with an assortment of bangles, matching the circlet.

They take a look around Steven’s room. It sorely needs a quick tidying up. Stevonnie puts the clothes down and goes to work with alacrity and grace — training clothes strewn about, dishes in the sink, a half-begun game of Settlers.

Out of the freezer comes hot dogs, patties, and pre-baked buns for both. Iceberg salad, red onion, pickles, mayo, ketchup. With steadfast movements born of superhuman agility and the combination of Connie’s meticulousness and Steven’s experience, they have everything from grill to drinks ready in no time.

One outfit change later, Stevonnie strides out the door. As they walk down the slope to the beach — by sheer coincidence (or is it?) — Garnet emerges from the sea.

Stevonnie waves. Garnet returns the gesture.

“Hey Garnet!” They call. “What are the chances anyone other than me are going to the Big Donut between now and when they close up?”

Garnet takes a second to answer. “Slim to nil.”

“Thanks!”

* * *

The door bell chimes, and Lars throws the tennis ball to Sadie one last time. She catches it neatly and puts it on the counter. “Welcome to the Big Donut what can I— Whoa,” she says. “It’s y— C-can I take your order?”

Stevonnie saunters up to the counter and rests a hand on it — the other holding a thumb under the suspender’s strap.

“Hey you two. Party at Steven’s — four o’clock.”

Lars, surprisingly is the first to shake off the daze. “We— The store closes at seven today.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Steven’s aunt Garnet can see the future — chances are very good you’ll be playing catch all day at this rate.”

The incongruous statement sends Sadie back to her senses. “We can’t just— Garnet can see the future? Is that even possible?”

“Sadie, this actually makes sense,” Lars says.

“Future-sight?”

“No, closing early,” Lars says, gesticulating. “There’s been what, two customers today? If we close down early, it shows we’re responsible and capable of spotting trends — they’d rather not pay us for just hanging around with no-one to sell to, right? You’re the acting manager, I promise I’ll support you and say it was my idea if they give you any trouble.”

Stevonnie looks over at Lars. _He’d better keep that promise._ “I’ll hold you to that, L— donut guy. It’s important to keep your promises to your friends. Especially the sweet ones.”

Sadie blushes at the compliment.

“Y— Yeah, of course,” Lars stammers. “I’m a man of my word.”

Stevonnie turns to him, letting their hair strategically slide over to obscure Sadie’s line of sight as they give him the I’m-watching-you gesture, and a wink. Then they turn, saunter over to the coffee percolator and pour a cup with milk and cream, humming the theme from the instructional video.

“One cup of coffee, please.”

“That’ll be a dollar sixty-nine,” Sadie says and rings it up on the register.

Stevonnie fishes out a three-dollar bill. “Keep the change.” In the door, they turn to the slightly-less-awestruck-than-last-time duo and say: “See you at four.”


	20. Fusion Schmusion

Steven’s phone chimes in Stevonnie’s pocket.

> 
>         Jenny:  
>     Kiki's a no-show. Secret weapon?
>       

Deftly, their fingertips dance out a reply.

> 
>                    Steven:  
>     Coming right up...
>       

It’s a short stroll down the boardwalk in the afternoon sun to Fish Stew Pizza. The doorbell chimes and Stevonnie walks up to the counter.

Kofi greets her: “Welcome to Fish Stew Pizza, what can I get for you?”

“Um, I’m looking for Kiki?” Stevonnie ventures.

Kofi turns to the kitchen. “Kiki, one of your friends is here.”

Kiki peeks out from the kitchen. Her expression flickers to one of confusion for a moment. “… Daddy, I’mma go talk to my friend outside the shop for a sec, ok?”

“Don’t take too long.”

Kiki hangs her apron and follows Stevonnie outside. “Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Jenny’s.”

“Never seen you before.”

“I’m only partly local,” Stevonnie admits and mentally snickers at the wordplay.

“U-huh, Is this about that, what, beach party?”

Stevonnie nods.

“Who’s coming besides Jenny’s weird friends?”

“Me. Lars and Sadie from the donut shop.”

Kiki gives Stevonnie a once-over. “How did a seven like my sister ever get to be friends with a ten like you?”

Stevonnie shrugs.

“Anyway, is Ronaldo coming?” Kiki asks.

 _Ronaldo is that guy who hit Steven with a potato. He’s not that bad though. It could be awkward with Lars there._ “You’re friends with Ronaldo?”

“I know he can be a bit of a weirdo and stuff… He’s not a bad guy though.”

“Did you hear of the time he knocked out Steven with a potato because of his obsession with — what was it — Snake People?”

“… No, but— Look, he really needs to get out more,” Kiki says.

Stevonnie crosses their arms. “Yeah, I’d say. Look, I guess he can come along since Steven thinks he’s cool, but he better not start ranting about his crazy theories. It’s gonna be a low-key party, pleasant talking, OK?”

“Sure, I’ll keep an eye on him; he respects me,” Kiki says.

“See you at four, then.” Stevonnie says and lets down their arms, “Nice meeting you, Kiki.”

* * *

It is fantastically hard to believe in coincidence when a caretaker of yours has the ability to perceive the future, and yet the idea seems appealing when you run into just the right kind of person.

It’s three o’clock when Jamie comes walking around the statue. Stevonnie is setting up for the party, mostly managing a flock of the magic floating trays.

“Hello, er— Is, is Steven around here somewhere?” he stammers.

“Hi! Jamie, right?” Stevonnie says.

That Jamie is an upright guy who takes criticism to heart is evident from the fact that, despite his eyes betraying his amazement with this handsome beau talking to him, he does not for a moment think about composing a love letter.

“Yeah, that’s me. Do I know you?”

“I’m a friend of Steven’s,” they say and undoes their apron.

Jamie looks at them, and pulls at his collar. “I’ve got a package for him.”

“He’s not here right now, but I can sign off on it if you’d like. Are you doing anything after four?”

“I— I don’t think so, no. Why?” He says.

“There’s a beach party here.”

“That’d be lov— I mean, yeah, great.”

* * *

As has been previously mentioned, the beach house is far from a place to do things and hope to not be noticed by a passing Crystal Gem, and true to form, Pearl warps in a quarter to four and finds Stevonnie rummaging through the freezer, surrounded by floating trays.

“Oh, Stevonnie… What are you doing here?”

The fusion looks up from her protracted dinner project. “Hi Pearl. I’m having a Beach Party.”

Pearl walks over to the kitchen and inspects the trays. “… Why?”

“Steven and Connie fused,” they says with a shrug.

“Fusion is serious magic, Stevonnie.”

Stevonnie stops in the middle of opening a package of hot dogs. “If I may, Pearl, that doesn’t make any sense. What about Garnet?”

“Sapphire and Ruby were both thousands of years old—” Pearl begins.

Stevonnie crosses their arms. “And I seem to recall you forming Rainbow Quartz for a _music video_.”

Pearl freezes like a deer in headlights. No objection, no justification, no qualification.

 _Nice job bringing up bad memories,_ they berate themselves.

“How did you—” Pearl whispers.

“Greg has it on tape. He showed us after we… Accidentally fused in front of him,” Stevonnie says and walks around the counter. They stop a few feet from Pearl.

“Look, Rainbow Quartz was very beautiful, I’m… I’m glad Rose and you had such a thing together, OK? We—” Stevonnie blushes slightly “Steven and Connie have, well, me. And sometimes I just happen, and—”

Pearl interrupts Stevonnie with a hug. “No, it’s fine. You’re right. You two aren’t the reason I say that.”

Stevonnie returns the embrace. “Is it because of fusions like Sugilite?”

“Partly,” Pearl says and retracts. “You two have a great party, OK?”

“OK.”


	21. Guests

Using the magic scaffold cube, Stevonnie sets up a shade over the entire beach house porch, though foregoing ice cubes on sticks. It was hot in the midday, but by now the temperature is decisively tolerable. The scaffold even has a slight angle to it, should it begin rain.

(It won’t, but the idea is neat.)

Several duplicated floating trays provide table space around the grill, which is burning slowly. The porch table and chairs has been duplicated to provide more seats and table space for board games and what-not, more floating trays are stacked with cups and bottles of soda (though something tells them it is a bad idea to duplicate the actual soda.) Even the sun lounger has gotten two identical twins…

Stevonnie is slowly coming to love the mundane utility of having copies of everything, though duplicating the floating trays have the duplicates acting funny for a couple of seconds before stabilizing. The best part is probably the realization that duplicate cutlery need no washing.

On the beach, the volleyball net has been set up, and Stevonnie has arranged a neat little pyramid of volleyballs. In short, everything is more or less ready.

Jamie is the first to show up.

(Scratch that, if you want to be technical, Lion is the first, snoozing on the roof of the magic scaffold shade.)

Stevonnie spots him coming up the slope to the beach house and waves. He waves back.

He reaches the deck and they take note of him not wearing his Postman’s uniform — an obvious thing, really, but still; instead he sports a white tee and denim jeans. Looking good.

“Hi, Jamie.”

“Hi, um—” Jamie says and hesitates, “I never actually got your name.”

“Stevonnie,” they say and hold out a hand.

“Stevonnie…” Jamie nods, then shrugs. “Is Steven around here?”

“Yep,” Stevonnie replies with a grin.

When the qualitative answer doesn’t come, Jamie looks them over suspiciously. In a town like Beach City, it’s rare indeed to see a fresh face.

“He’ll explain everything when all the guests are here,” they add.

“I see. May I—?” He asks and points at a floating tray with refreshments, pausing to wonder at the fact that it is floating.

“Where’s my hospitality?” Stevonnie says, “have a seat, help yourself to something to drink. The trays come when you beckon them. I’ll put the patties and ’dogs on when people start coming.”

Jamie experimentally beckons one of the trays causing it to dutifully float over to him. “That is pretty useful.”

* * *

A couple of minutes later, the trio Sour Cream, Jenny, and Buck arrive, turning the corner around the Beach House onto the outfitted porch.

“See what I told you?” Sour Cream says to the two others, and gestures to Stevonnie.

Buck raises his glasses. Jenny does a low whistle.

“Hello you three. I’m Stevonnie,” they say and hold out a hand.

Buck hesitantly shakes it. “I’m Buck, this is Jenny—”

“Charmed,” Jenny interjects.

“— and Sour Cream.”

“We’ve met,” Sour Cream says. “You’re a friend of Steven’s?”

That makes Stevonnie hesitate. _They don’t remember? I unfused right in front of them…_ They shake off the thought and shrug. “More like a relative. It’s complicated, and I’m gonna give the details once everyone is here. Have a seat.”

 _What in the world is going on?_ Stevonnie thinks as the coolkids walk past.

Jamie has put his phone away and stood up. He and Buck share an elaborate handshake. “Been a while, my man Jamie. Where’ve you been?” Buck says.

“Kansas,” he replies.

“Pursuing the big screen?”

“My acting skills weren’t up to snuff. I’m looking at local theatre these days,” he says.

“You two know each other?” Stevonnie asks, starry-eyed.

“We’re old friends,” Jamie explains. “Since we were, what, ten?”

Buck nods. Sour Cream shakes Jamie’s hand, Jenny gives him a light hug, before turning to Stevonnie “So are there hot dogs and beach volley?”

“Hot dogs are going on the grill now, beach volley is down on the beach.”

“Buck, Jamie, you two against me and Sour Cream while we wait?” Jenny says to the others.

“I’m game,” Jamie says.

“Bring a tray with soda,” Stevonnie tells them, “they’ll follow you if you beckon them until you shoo them away.”

Jamie turns to the tray which he notices has followed him from his seat. “That’s neat. It’s like having a little friend.”

The four filter down to the beach, and Stevonnie turns the sausages over on the grill, and starts putting the patties on the heat.

* * *

Sadie and Lars are the next to turn up. Stevonnie catches them out of the corner of an eye, Lars saying hi to the trio, and Jamie shaking hands with Sadie.

“Up here you two!” They call down to them at the bottom of the slope.

Sadie is wearing a blue sundress and white sandals, Lars is in cargo shorts and a black t-shirt, barefoot.

“You two look great, I’m Stevonnie,” they greet the two, and handshakes are exchanged.  
“Is— is Steven here?” Lars ventures.

“You could say that,” they answer cryptically.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Sadie says, and looks at her companion.

Lars shrugs. “You know what, I’m not going to complain. There’s free food and soda.”

Stevonnie giggles. “You have your priorities in order, donut guy.”

“I’m Lars,” he says.

“Sadie,” she offers.

“Good to know,” Stevonnie says. _It’s strangely easy to keep up the act,_ they think. “You can go down by the net, I’ll call when the food is ready.”

“Sure,” Lars says.

“I think I’ll keep you company up here,” Sadie says to Stevonnie. “See you in a bit, Lars.”

Lars opens his mouth to say something, but no words come. “OK,” he eventually says.

 _I hope she doesn’t intend to start asking pointed questions,_ Stevonnie thinks and turns back to the grill.

* * *

“… And then he just runs out the back door! I swear, I chased him all the way down to the grocer — like, he’s faster than me, and I catch him mulling over the tomatoes. Man, was it hard talking him out of actually making that salad.”

“Sadie, that’s hilarious,” Stevonnie deadpans with a huge grin.

“Oh, here’s Ronaldo and Kiki,” Sadie says and points.

Ronaldo in a black polo, cargo shorts, socks and sandals, Kiki in a sundress as usual. They wave at the volleyball troupe as they pass on their way to the beach house.

“Hi Kiki, and Ronaldo, I presume?” Stevonnie greets them. “I’m Stevonnie.”

Kiki wordlessly shakes their hand and goes to take a seat next to Sadie. Ronaldo hesitates a little, before reaching out to take the offered hand.

“Aren’t you—?” he begins.

Stevonnie holds a finger to their lips and winks. “ _All will be revealed,_ ” they stage whisper. “In the meantime, look at these nifty magic floating trays.”

Stevonnie gestures to the appliances and Ronaldo almost forgets to close his mouth. “How do… I— What? There was one down by the beach volley court but I assumed it was a trick of the eye. What magic is this?”

“I don’t know, but don’t worry, they’re completely safe. They also come when you beckon, and leave when you shoo at them,” they say and demonstrate with a tray of grilled patties.

Ronaldo testingly passes a hand underneath one. Then above it.

“Ronaldo,” Kiki says. “We’re here to have a fun beach party, remember?”

“The truth never rests, Kiki,” he says and waves a hand in her direction.

“Ronaldo, you promised!” She hisses at him, eliciting an immediate reaction.

As if burned, he stands up, pulling his hands to himself and looks at her. “Right, um…” He turns to Stevonnie. “I apologize.”

They smile at him in reply. “No problem.” Then, with four bouncing steps they move to the railing and call for the others. “Burgers and hot dogs, people, get them while they’re hot!”


	22. Enby

The five others come up from the beach volley court, making smalltalk along the way.

“Jamie, where did you learn to spike a ball like that?” Jenny says.

Jamie shrugs in response. “I guess I am just _that good_.”

“Who won?” Sadie asks them.

Jenny points at Buck and Jamie high-fiveing. “Those two bozo’s are in sync like none I ever seen.”

“Comes with years of practice hanging out,” Buck explains.

* * *

“Hi sis, nice to see you out and about,” Jenny says sitting down next to Kiki.

Kiki gestures to their host. “Stevonnie convinced me. He’s real handsome, how did you find a ten like him?”

“He? I thought Stevonnie was a girl—?”

They both look at the mystery persona in question, who is loading another dish patties onto a tray.

“… And anyway,” Jenny continues, “she’s one of Steven’s friends. I think.”

* * *

“How did your trip to Kansas go?” Sadie asks Jamie.

Jamie puts his hot dog down and reaches for a napkin. “Well, to be honest I bit off more than I could chew. Garnet, Steven’s… Friend? Aunt? Convinced me to take up theatre work on a more local scene.”

“Sounds great.”

“You’re still at the Big Donut?”

Sadie nods.

“Can I ask you something weird? I think it was last August? You kinda up and disappeared for a few days, according to Barbara?”

Sadie laughs. “Oh, right, that. It was a little misadventure with Steven and Lars. We went to a deserted island, and I kind of stranded us there for a while. We almost got killed by an invisible monster, but I kind of saved our lives by killing it with a spear.”

Jamie stares for a beat, then cocks his head. “… That sounds exiting. And scary as hell. Glad to you came out of it unscathed.”

“Well, I did get this wicked scar,” she says and gestures to her cheek. “How do you know Steven?”

Jamie shrugs. “I have the route that takes me past his house. He orders a lot of packages. Then out of nowhere I bump into that gorgeous girl Stevonnie and she invites me to this beach party. And as a bonus it turns out my old pal Buck is invited too, so…”

“… I thought Stevonnie was a guy? He came into the donut shop just once back last fall, and then again today and just invites me and Lars.”

* * *

“Well, one of us is going to have to change,” Ronaldo says, giving Lars a once-over.

Black polo versus black tee, identical brand of cargo pants. Lars glares at him. “That may be, but I have a question —” he points at Ronaldo’s socks & sandals combo “— what are _those_?” he utters in disgust.

“Perfectly acceptable is what they are. And you’re barefoot, like you’re making some sort of statement.”

“Yeah, that we live in a place where the streets aren’t littered with glass shards, but since you’ve so kindly pointed out that you are more suitably dressed, why don’t _you_ go home and change. That way you can lose the socks too and wear your sandals like it’s damn intended.”

“I refuse to argue with you about this if you are going to bring faith-based arguments into the discussion.”

Suddenly, a pink bundle of cloth lands in Ronaldo’s arms. Startled, he looks around and pinpoints a grinning Stevonnie as the perpetrator. “You don’t have to go home to change, Ronaldo. That’s a limited edition Mr. Universe tee, from Steven’s dad to Steven, and now to you.”

Ronaldo unfolds the garment. It’s a large pink t-shirt with the iconically ‘Steven’ yellow star."

He looks back at Stevonnie who gives him double thumbs-up and a wink.

“Why is she being so nice to you, huh? How do you know Stevonnie?” Lars says.

“First of all I am far from certain Stevonnie is a ‘she’ and second of all, I’ve barely met Stevonnie. Do people in general need a reason to be nice to me?”

* * *

“Does Steven have a CD player or something?” Sour Cream asks Stevonnie.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact… Should I fetch it?” they say, pausing in the middle of putting ketchup on a burger bun.

“I, uh… I brought a mixtape. It’s just some mood-setting tunes.”

“Sounds great, I’ll be right back.”

* * *

“Hi Ronaldo. Nice shirt,” Kiki says as Ronaldo takes a seat by her and Jenny.

“Our host was so gracious to provide when Lars and I had a dispute about fashion.”

“Hey, Ronaldo, what do you think of her?” Jenny says.

“Him!” Kiki corrects. “What my sister is trying to say is that we need a tie-breaker. We don’t agree whether Stevonnie is a guy or a gal.”

Ronaldo rub his chin demonstratively. “… I have with my limited observations, come to believe that Stevonnie is a hermaphroditic alien. A Slug Person. Or ‘Slerson’ if you will.”

Jenny and Kiki groan in unison.

* * *

“What have you got for us, Sour Cream?” Buck asks the aspiring DJ, fiddling with the ghetto-blaster Stevonnie provided him with.

“A mixtape. It’s some deep house and chillstep to set the mood.”

“Sounds rad,” Buck comments.

“I’ve also brought something with a little more kick to dance to. I was kind of hoping…” he says and looks tellingly at Stevonnie.

“You wanna see her dance?”

“I’m not even sure if Stevonnie is a girl. But yeah. I wanna see her dance.”

* * *

Sadie timidly approaches Stevonnie.

“Hey Stevonnie, um, I was thinking if… Steven took me and Lars on a trip through the Warp Pad last year; and I was telling Jamie and Kiki about it and they’d like to see the place. But I don’t know if—”

“— If there’s anyone who can operate the warp pad?” Stevonnie says and stands up with a flourish. They put their arms akimbo, and strike a pose. “Fortunately, _I_ can!”

* * *

“Hey, Jamie where are you guys going?” Buck asks.

Jamie shrugs. “Something about a magic teleporter and a tropical paradise, I think.”

“Sounds rad,” he says. Then he raises his voice: “Everyone, Stevonnie’s gonna show off a magic teleporter and take us sight-seeing on a tropical paradise.”


	23. Warp Tourism

“I’ll just need to get some things before we go,” Stevonnie says and effortlessly jumps up to grab the edge of the cube-scaffold shade, much to the spectacle of the guests. With a heave they pull themselves up, get a foot on the edge, and goes from there to standing in one fluid motion.

Lion barely reacts when they draw Rose’s Sword from its mane, together with a sword belt Pearl gave Steven. With that in hand, Stevonnie goes back to the to the edge of the shade and drops down to the deck again, landing with a heavy thump.

Standing where they land, Stevonnie dons the sword belt and hooks the pink scabbard to it. “Is— Is that a sword?” Sadie asks.

Stevonnie nods. “Your skill with the fishing spear is great, Sadie, but I’d rather none of you have to endanger yourselves. If anything dangerous shows up —” Stevonnie manifests the shield demonstratively “— I’ll protect you.”

“Dangerous?” Jamie asks quietly.

“Sometimes giant monsters happen,” Jenny explains.

Then Stevonnie strides into the house and starts rummaging through the storage closets.

“So, what are you looking for now?” Sour Cream asks.

“A little device so that no one will get stranded. Here it is!” Stevonnie says pulling the Warp Whistle out from under a board game.

“What’s that?” Lars asks.

“It’s a device that operates Warp Pads,” Stevonnie says and blows in it. The melodic timbre of it’s eerie whistle rings out and the warp pad glows and echoes the trills in a deep jingle. “But I only have one— Oh right!” They say and pull the bundle of Gem gadgets out, unrolling it on the sofa table.

Duplicator wand. Stevonnie touches it to the whistle and creates a second one. Blowing in the duplicate gets a similar response from the warp pad as the original.

“This is some kind of incredible space-alien technology,” Ronaldo says awed.

“It’s magic,” Stevonnie clarifies.

“No, I’m fairly certain it’s a cloning machine and you are using it wrong. Does it work on people?”

Stevonnie goes silent, and looks up that the inquisitive young man. “I don’t know. I don’t want to try. Steven did something similar with time-travel once. It didn’t end well.”

“Time travel? Didn’t he sing about ‘watching himself die’ at the palooza?” Kiki pipes up.

 _Good memory,_ Stevonnie notes. “Yeah, he did.”

“Oh…” Ronaldo mutters, frowns and waves a hand dismissively. “Forget I said anything, then.”

* * *

Outfitted with a Warp Whistle each, Stevonnie gathers their guests around the pad.

“Now, the Warp Stream the Warp Pads make is completely safe. Outside it, not so much. Keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times. I’m only going to warp two at a time, and you’ll be holding my hands. OK?”

Nods and murmurs of consent.

“That seems reasonable,” Jamie mutters.

Stevonnie strikes a pose, arms akimbo. “So… Who’s first?”

Ronaldo takes a step forward. “I volunteer. It will be interesting to see teleportation up close. I don’t expect anyone else to potentially sacrifice themselves to test this device in the name of Science.”

“Ronaldo, Lars and I have. Steven does it almost daily,” Sadie points out.

“He’s just being a drama queen, Sadie,” Lars grumbles.

Kiki steps forward. “I better keep an eye on Ronaldo.”

Stevonnie smiles wide and take them both by the hands, then steps backwards up onto the warp pad. Kiki and Ronaldo follow.

“This thing is really reflective,” Kiki says. “Pretty.”

“Hold on, you two,” Stevonnie says, and in a flash of blue light they are gone from the beach house…

* * *

Blue light. Kiki has reflexively closed her eyes in the flash, and now opens one.

She holds Stevonnie’s hand with both of hers, engulfed in blue light and weightless. She glances at Ronaldo, eyes screwed up, legs pulled up beneath him.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Stevonnie says with laughter in their voice.

* * *

… and have arrived in a lush jungle.

“Whoa, what manner of mystical place is this?”

Stevonnie shrugs. “It’s a tropical island full of big pretty Geodes, I guess.” They lead the two off the pad. “Now, wait here a few seconds while I get the others. If anything happens while I am gone, blow the whistle, and the Warp Pad in the temple will let me know.”

A blue skyward column of light, and Kiki and Ronaldo are left alone.

* * *

Lars and Sadie go next.

“You won’t get stranded, I promise,” Stevonnie reassures them.

* * *

“Jamie?” Buck says as soon as Stevonnie touches down in the temple.

“Do I need to hold my breath or anything?” Jamie asks.

Stevonnie shakes their head. “Nope.”

* * *

“You and me, Sour Cream,” Jenny says as the blue light fills the beach house.

“For the record, I am loving this light effect,” he commends.

Stevonnie touches down and holds out their hands. The two step onto the pad, and the Beach house is left empty.

* * *

Eight tourists, eight cell phones. It’s early morning on the island, and the light is perfect for amateur photography — it’s not every day you get to go on a magical sight-seeing trip.

“What’s the purpose of these Geodes?” Ronaldo asks.

Stevonnie shrugs. “I think they might just be for decoration.”

“Sure are pretty,” Jenny says, posing inside one while Buck snaps a picture.

“Unlikely,” Ronaldo says. “Such elaborate crystal formations must serve some sort of purpose. My guess is Mind Control.”

Kiki jabs him in the shoulder.

* * *

The tour takes them down the beach. Sadie offers commentary on what happened where when she, Lars, and Steven were stranded.

“Stevonnie, I think a lot of us are wondering — you’re pretty cool and all, but who are you?” Lars asks.

The entire group turns their attention towards them.

 _Calm down,_ Stevonnie thinks, stifling the momentary panic. _This was to be expected, right?_

“Like, first of all — this might be rude and I apologize, but we’re all pretty confused as to what your gender is,” he continues. “And… Where _is_ Steven?”

Stevonnie’s worries fade and they smile knowingly.


	24. Genre Savvy

“Steven is half of me, that’s how I know him.” Stevonnie says, off-handedly.

A beat passes while the seemingly absurd statement is processed by the listeners.

Sour Cream is the first to speak up. “What.”

“So, like, metaphorically?” Sadie suggests.

“Literally,” Stevonnie clarifies.

“You ate Steven and stole his magic space powers?!” Ronaldo yelps.

This time everyone pauses to look at Ronaldo.

“Actually that would explain a lot,” Kiki says.

Stevonnie shakes themselves out of the bafflement. “No! Nothing like that. I’m a magical, temporary amalgamation of Steven and his best friend Connie! Wh— I _ate_ Steven? That’s… Where did that even come from?!”

“I theorized that since you are a hermaphroditic alien shapeshifter you might also be inclined towards form-stealing cannibalism,” Ronaldo says straight-faced.

“Hey, that’s really insensitive towards intersex people, Ronaldo,” Lars hisses.

Stevonnie pinches the bridge of their nose. “Look. I’m a Fusion. It’s magic. Half of me is that lovely little goofball Steven Universe, and I know everything he knows. The other half is Connie, from Crossroads — Steven’s best friend, who is adorable, smart, and kind. I am Stevonnie, the physical embodiment of their relationship. Capisce?”

There’s some hesitation, but eventuall it is nods all around.

“Connie… Is that the black girl Steven hangs out with sometimes?” Lars asks.

Stevonnie nods. “Indian-American, and yeah, that’s me— I mean her.”

“Is… Is she, like, Steven’s girlfriend?”

“We’re both twelve. I mean, there’s a lot of feelings, but…” Stevonnie says and shrugs.

Sadie giggles. “That’s… Actually really cute.”

Stevonnie blushes slightly and rubs their neck, smiling.

“So, what you’re saying is that you’re two twelve year olds?” Jamie asks, hesitantly.

Stevonnie nods. Jamie looks distinctly uncomfortable but stays quiet.

“Are you a boy or a girl?” Buck asks.

Stevonnie is just about to answer enthusiastically, then hesitates. _What am I even? Steven is a boy, Connie is a girl. Both? Neither?.. Does it matter?_ they shrug. “I’m a Fusion? Who cares?”

“What’re your pronouns?” Lars asks.

Stevonnie pauses to think for a while. “I’ve never even thought about that,” they say and look up at Larse. “Lars, how about you figure out some good pronouns for me to use, while we move on. Who’s up for seeing a gladiatorial arena floating in the sky?”

* * *

Another four warps back and forth later the whole group are assembled at the sky arena. It’s evening.

“So is this place flying?” Jenny asks.

“Yeah. Don’t fall,” Stevonnie says.

Jenny eyes the lack of guard rails and backs a few steps away from the edge.

They walk up the stairs to the vomitorium, and enter into the arena proper.

“Half of it is missing,” Kiki says, awestruck. “Something huge must have happened here, right?”

Stevonnie nods emphatically. “As I understand it, a _war_ started here.”

“Who’s that?” Ronaldo says, pointing at a statue.

Stevonnie shrugs. “I don’t know a lot about this place to be honest.”

* * *

Another round of warps take them to Rose’s fountain, among rose flowers and brambles. Stevonnie leads them to the main attraction. “This is Rose Quartz. Steven’s mother.”

Pictures are taken, and the artistry of the sculptures are appreciated.

“Wow… It looks exactly like her,” Sour Cream says.

Stevonnie perks up. “You knew my— I mean, Steven’s— mom?”

“It was a long time ago and I only saw her a few times, but I remember what she looked like.”

“Huh.”

Sour Cream looks around. “This place is like the perfect setting for a music video.”

Ronaldo pokes an errant bramble bush. It pokes him back.

* * *

“…Those are some really big strawberries,” Buck says.

“…And some huge weapons,” Jenny says and points.

Stevonnie gestures at the vista. “This is the site of a huge battle, back during the first gem war for Earth. I think something like nine thousand years ago.”

“Whack,” Buck says and picks up a strawberry the size of a baseball.

Ronaldo points at the horizon. “How do those mountains over there appear to be floating? Is it a trick of the eye?”

“No, they really are floating. No idea how,” Stevonnie says. “Sorry I don’t have a lot of answers.”

* * *

The Galaxy warp is their final destination. After the initial round of amazement, and Stevonnie’s strict instruction not to step on the pads, questions bubble up.

“So all of these are Warp Pads?” Kiki asks.

“Yes. Most of them are broken though,” Steovnnie answers.

She bends down to investigate the cracked device. “Is that a Crying Breakfast Friends sticker?”

“Yes.”

“Hey, Stevonnie!” Ronaldo calls, “Where does the big one go? An _Alien Planet?_ ”

Stevonnie trots over to him. “Yep.”

“A-ha! So _you_ really _are_ aliens! I was right!” he says and pumps his fist, before pointing at Stevonnie. “Buu~sted!”

Stevonnie just stares at him. “I don’t really know what you expected, Ronaldo. Yes, the magical shapeshifting sentient Crystal beings that live in the giant magic temple next to Beach City are extraterrestrials. What else would they be?”

Ronaldo hesitates. “… You kind of have a point there.”

Stevonnie turns to the rest of them. “Does anyone wanna come with me and Ronaldo to see a scary place?”

Everyone looks up, and after a beat, seven hands rise into the air.

* * *

Stevonnie leads them into the canyon. The sun sits overhead, but it is as if someone has dimmed it.

The walls are covered in the distinct humanoid-shaped holes and the giant Injectors, reminiscent of bacteriophages, cling to walls, inert.

Stevonnie starts talking in a cheerful voice: “On your left you see ancient evil Gem machinery… On the right, you can see person shaped holes where thousands of years ago nascent Gems were injected into the rock to incubate.

“You may be noticing that there is no vegetation here. That’s because the process sucks the life out of the surrounding area. Were it up to the Gem Homeworld’s Diamond Authority, the whole earth would have been left barren in the name of creating new Gems.”

Stevonnie spins dramatically, revealing their expression to be anything but a smile. With steel in their voice they start speaking. “What do you say, Ronaldo? Evil space aliens here to drain Earth of all life? That’s what The Crystal Gems are up against.”

Ronaldo’s mouth hangs open. Disbelief is painted on his face.

Stevonnie continues ranting: “They went to war to defend Earth, led by none other than Rose Quartz, Steven’s mother; thousands of years ago — twice! — and lost all their friends, just so humanity could live. And now they are back —” Stevonnie throws their arms out for emphasis “— you all saw! In a giant green space ship shaped like a hand. And that was just the beginning.

“We four are the only thing standing between Humanity and an intergalactic empire of planet-destroying aliens.”

Ronaldo tries and fails at putting a sentence together. “I— This is— I don’t…”

Stevonnie puts a hand on his shoulder. “Ronaldo… How do I put this— you’re thinking about it all wrong. There’s no hidden world. There’s no conspiracy. It’s not a Mystery kind-of-story. It’s magic heroes, and space war. It’s science fiction.”

Then with the dexterity of a pickpocket, Stevonnie relieves him of his smart phone and puts it in his palm. “Look at your smart phone,” they say, and he does. “How far back do you have to go to before people dreamt of a space future where you had everything on a small rectangle in your pocket? How much _more_ can it not do than they could ever imagine back then?”

Stevonnie raises his chin with a finger to look them in the eye. “Ronaldo, if you want to help, you shouldn’t try to unveil the conspiracy — that’s not what science fiction heroes do. You need to become a scientist.”

And one could swear there are stars in his eyes.


	25. Afterparty

Applause. It is strange when those around you suddenly start clapping. It puts you on the spot, but at the same time it is not an uncomfortable form of attention.

Stevonnie looks about at the others, clapping at them. Ronaldo looks at his phone with wonder, scrolling through his list of apps as if trying to actually answer the rhetorical question.

“I think I need to go home and… Dismantle my bulletin boards,” he says, slowly pocketing his phone.

“Yeah, we should probably head back,” Stevonnie says, consulting their phone. “Half of me needs to be in Crossroads by eight.”

* * *

They warp back into the temple without issue. Ronaldo absentmindedly bids his goodbyes and wanders home in deep thought.

“I have never seen anyone actually get Ronaldo to change his mind,” Kiki says after he has left. “You have a gift with words, Stevonnie.”

“Thanks.”

Lars speaks up. “This trip was a lot better than last time. No being stranded for weeks, no invisible monsters…”

Stevonnie pokes him in the arm. “Only half of me is that reckless, Lars. Don’t say it didn’t do you good, though.”

“… I guess.”

“Anyway,” Stevonnie says, raising their voice to get everyone’s attention. “If you want a last hot dog, assuming the sea gulls haven’t taken them, now is the time.”

“It’s been a sweet party, Stevonnie,” Buck says.

“Yeah, I’m inspired, man,” Sour Cream says.

“Anyway, I’m thinking anyone interested, come on over to my place and party on. Anybody up?” Buck asks.

“I’m game,” Jenny says. “Kiki?”

“Sure,” her sister says.

Sour Cream rubs his neck. “I think I’d rather go home and pen down some tunes, Buck. Inspiration is fickle, and I’ve had a great muse tonight.”

“Sure thing, Sour Cream,” Buck replies. “Jamie?”

“I’ve got work in the morning,” Jamie says.

“I’d like to come too,” Lars says. “Sadie?”

Sadie nods. “Why not.”

“Great, six-outta-eight,” Buck says.

And so the whole crowd say their goodbyes to Stevonnie and filters out the screen door, down the slope to the beach and in towards the boardwalk.

 _That went well,_ Stevonnie thinks, looking down at the leaving crowd from the beach house deck. _And now, cleanup._

With the replicator wand in hand they lead the floating trays inside, putting what is worth saving in tupperware containers, closing open soda bottles and pouring out half-finished glasses of soda.

_What is even up with Jenny & co. not remembering me?_

They stack plates in the sink, and with a flick of the wand **unmake** them each in turn leaving behind whatever grease and scraps of food were left on them. Glasses go the same way, as do the extra trays; and not much after that, the extra furniture.

Checking that Lion is no longer napping on the scaffold, Stevonnie taps the base of one leg of the temporary construction, and the whole thing fades into nothing.

 _Now for the difficult part,_ Stevonnie thinks. “Lion!” They call out. Up on the statue hand, the big pink furball stirs and walks down the arm with great agility before jumping all the way over to the deck and landing almost without sound.

“There you are,” Stevonnie says and undoes the sword belt. Lion kneels, and they deposit the weapon in its mane. “Now stay here, Connie is going to need a ride home.”

The big cat lies down, and gives a snuffle, rubbing up against Stevonnie’s hand.

“Oh you charmer. I’ll be right back.”

 _I ought to get back into the fused clothes before unfusing. Who knows what might happen if I don’t,_ Stevonnie thinks, making their way up to Steven’s bed.

There, on the matress is not a pair of shorts and a green t-shirt with a star motif, but two pairs of shorts, and two t-shirts: Steven’s pink one, and Connie’s green one.

 _Huh. Our clothes unfused. Hm. This could turn awkward. What if Steven and Connie end up naked when I unfuse? But then again… They’ve been_ me _all day, so it can’t be that much of a decency problem if they do. And besides, my underwear is still fused._

Then, methodically, Stevonnie strips down (not wanting to ruin the lovely outfit in a repeat of the scarf accident,) and **fission**.

* * *

Steven and Connie come into being, holding hands, in their underwear. Steven immediately turns his gaze away, and Connie, blushing furiously, snatches her clothes off the bed.

Deeming herself decent, Connie hands Steven his clothes, poking him gently on the shoulder.

Wordlessly he takes them, and she looks away.

He pulls on his pants and shirt, and normalcy begins to supplant the atmosphere of awkwardness. Steven sits down on the edge, and gestures for Connie to join him.

“So…” Steven says. “What do you think?”

“I— I don’t know. It’s a lot. Stevonnie is really…” Connie says.

“Yeah.”

“It was fun.”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like to do that again some time.”

“Me too.”

Connie touches the golden circlet. “We’re so articulate.”

“That part is you.”

“And athletic.”

“That’s both of us.”

“And kind,” Connie says and looks at Steven. “That part is you.”

Steven just smiles and blushes at the compliment.

“C’mon,” she says and jumps down from the loft, aided once again by the circlet.

* * *

They ride into the evening, this time with the aid of a GPS, rather than just a portal jump.

Connie, sitting behind him, hugs Steven tightly the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No.
> 
> I know what your're thinking.
> 
> Get your mind out of the gutter.
> 
> That was not a metaphor for anything.
> 
> Really.


	26. Week Of Sardonyx

**_Cry For Help_ **

> 
>                                      Steven:
>     theres some crazy stuff going on
>     with the gems and I could really use
>     one of stevonnies great speeches to
>     fix it. D:
>     
>     Connie:
>     There's a school trip this weekend
>     until the next and then my birthday
>     party. I'm sorry. I'll be home next
>     week? :(
>     
>                                  Steven:
>          I'll try to hold down the fort.
>                                       :/
>     
>                                  Steven:
>                   And congratulations. I
>                  probably can't make it.
>     
>     
>     Connie:
>     Yeah. Sorry. Good luck.
>       

* * *

* * *

**_Keystone Motel_ **

“Garnet, why does Sapphire only have one eye?”

“It’s an aesthetic choice.”

“Wh— Oh, right. She’s shapeshifting it?”

“Yeah. Does hurt depth perception though. When I— she gets in a fight, she reverts to two eyes.”

“That makes sense.”

* * *

* * *

**_Onion Friend_ **

Amethyst finds Pearl sitting on the beach, hugging her knees, next to an intricate sandcastle in the water’s edge: a recreation of the Lunar Sea Spire.

“Hi,” Amethyst says and sits down beside her.

Pearl remains quiet.

“Thinking about the old days?”

Pearl nods.

“Funny thing, I ran into an old friend today. She’s gotten old.”

Amethyst looks at Pearl.

“Wasn’t there a whitelist?”

“It’s not that simple… But yes, you could call it that,” Pearl mumbles into her antecubital fossa.

“Damn,” Amethyst mutters under her breath.

Pearl looks up. “What is it?”

“Vidalia isn’t on it.”

“Who?”

“The girl Greg knew back in the day? I started hanging out with her?”

“Oh, the pregnant one? If memory serves, she is on it.”

“She’s been living here in Beach City the whole time. I thought she moved out, you know? We just stopped hanging out for whatever reason and she didn’t come looking… And it’s not like she stopped being my friend — she was really into talking about old times.”

“What’s your point?”

“That’s not what ‘being on the white-list’ looks like.”

“… People change over time. It might be she drifted outside of the parameters. It’d be risky to specify too wide a gap. It could let a lot of people in.”

They sit there for a long while, as the tide rolls in, gradually eroding the levee protecting the sand castle.

“How are you holding up?” Amethyst asks.

“I hate myself a little.”

Amethyst moves to put an arm around Pearl but instead Pearl turn and hugs Amethyst.

* * *

* * *

**_Friend Ship_ **

> 
>         Connie:
>     I'm back. Is everything
>     OK?
>     
>                      Steven:
>        crazy stuff is better
>        but still crazy. need
>        help.
>     
>     Connie:
>     Maheswaran to the Rescue.
>       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one crazy bomb, people.
> 
> “But nothing really happened...”
> 
> *Rafiki voice* No. Look harder.


	27. Sore Topics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back for more. Still looking for a proof/beta-reader if anyone is interested.

“… So now Garnet is about to begin considering forgiving Pearl, Amethyst is acting like Pearl usually does, and Pearl is still so nervous she jumps when I slam the door.” Steven says, and sips his juice brick solemnly.

Connie just stares at him. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Steven says.

“I mean, what— That’s like—” Connie sputters.

“I know. It’s been a hard week.”

“No, but… I can’t believe I wasn’t here! I could have helped!”

“No, it’s OK, Connie,” Steven says.

“It’s not OK, Steven. Garnet is a fusion, Pearl wants to fuse with her, Amethyst feels bad over fusion! Remember what we said to Pearl?”

“Yep.”

“The way you tell it, virtually every problem you guys have had, has come from the Gems being all wrong about fusion,” Connie says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“They’re better than the Homeworld gems.”

“That’s true. But it isn’t worth much.”

“Did I tell you about what Garnet and I found below the Kindergarten?”

“No?”

* * *

Connie has now been reduced to lying face down on the picnic blanket and groaning in exasperation. “This is a horrible, horrible mess.”

Steven shrugs. “Yep.”

“I feel like if they just did fusion the way we do, all these problems would go away… I mean, apart from Homeworld being awful.”

“I don’t know about that. The Gems are really, really old, Connie.”

“Steven, if my mother heard about this she would recommend each of them a therapist. Possibly even Couples Therapy.”

Steven raises an eyebrow. “What’s a therapist?”

Connie looks up from her prone position. “It’s someone who talks with people about their feelings and problems, and is a professional at it.”

“So it’s kinda like a friend?” Steven asks.

“Kind of. The point is actually that they are _not_ vested in being your friend, but only in getting you better. So they can say and do things which a friend wouldn’t.”

“That sounds useful.”

“Yeah, the only problem is that the Gems are aliens. I could see therapy techniques not working on them.”

“Anyway, something completely different…” Steven says, inelegantly changing the topic. “Do you think it’s weird how easily Stevonnie talked to people?”

“Isn’t that part you?”

Steven shrugs. “I’m a charmer, but not that much of a charmer. I don’t think I could ever convince Ronaldo that he was wrong.”

“Hmm~. Maybe it is a magic thing then?” Connie muses.

“Seems everybody liked my mom. Could be magic. Also could not. Ronaldo seemed really different. Maybe he was just playing along?”

“What, like playing pretend?” Connie says and rolls over onto her back. “I don’t think so. Maybe we should check up on him at some point?”

“If it _is_ magic, and Ronaldo _wasn’t_ being himself, then… I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that,” Steven says, rubbing his neck.

“Yeah. Me either.”

They sit there in silence (well, Connie lying down,) at the top of the temple hill looking at the clouds drifting by overhead.

“We should go talk to the Gems first,” Connie begins. “If we can get them to be better at fusion, maybe they could use… What was her name, Alexandria?”

“Alexandrite.”

“They could use Alexandrite against the Homeworld Gems!”

“That’s true. And Sardonyx and Sugilite too. And Opal, although she is a rather small Giant woman in comparison… Maybe she could wear platform shoes?” Steven says, raising an eyebrow in jest.

Connie giggles. Then she makes a flawless kip-up. “Let’s get going then.”

Steven counters her display of athleticism by doing a backwards roll off the picnic blanket. They pick it up together and fold it neatly in two synchronized moves. Steven hooks an arm through the picnic basket and they start walking down towards the temple.

* * *

They find Pearl in the middle of doing dishes. “Oh, hello Connie. I’m sorry I missed your fencing lesson last week.”

“It’s all right,” Connie says. “I heard from Steven you’ve had a rough week. You have my sympathies.”

“Yeah… That’s putting it mildly. It’s my own doing though,” Pearl says and looks back down into the sink.

Connie and Steven look at each other. “I understand the way you feel,” Connie says.

Pearl looks up.

“Yeah. You feel powerful as a Fusion. Like, I’m not very confident and I don’t really like being at parties, even though I want to be the kind of person who goes to parties. And… Stevonnie just hosts a beach party for all the coolest people in Beach city for fun.”

Connie takes off the circlet. “And even something like this —” she twirls the magical device for emphasis “— Without it I am just boring old Connie. With it, I’m Super Connie. I don’t know how I could live without it.”

Pearl rinses her hands and dries them in a dish towel. “I suppose that is analogous.”

“I think what I am trying to say is that wanting to feel powerful, and wanting to be a greater being is OK. It’s natural. Steven and I have been talking it over a little, and we think that the way you three view fusion might not be the best way to view fusion.”

Pearl looks at Steven. “What has prompted this line of thought?”

“Well,” he says. “It’s like… Lots of problems we face have to do with fusion: Malachite, the Shard Clusters, the whole ordeal with Sardonyx, Amethyst feeling bad about Sugilite, Garnet being freaked out, you having an argument with Stevonnie who’s still kind of miffed about it, how Stevonnie accidentally made you sad by mentioning Rainbow Quartz, how Alexandrite is unstable and we really need such a powerful fusion to fight the Homeworld Gems, Amethyst and you never forming Opal anymore, and… I think that about covers it.”

Connie looks at Steven. “Impressive recollection.”

“Thanks.”

Pearl takes a deep breath. “Look, Fusion is serious magic for a reason. It is taxing to perform, very powerful, and potentially hard to control. Using it frivolously is inviting disaster.”

“But,” Connie says. “There was a great martial artist who said that he didn’t fear a man who had practiced ten thousand kicks once, but he feared a man who had practiced one kick ten thousand times. If you rarely use Fusion, you are out of practice, and maybe that is why it’s difficult to control?”

Pearl is visibly offended at the suggestion. “Fusion is the highest connection possible between gems! You can’t just _practice_ it like some combat technique.”

“But,—” Steven says.

“No ’but’s. I won’t hear this; I’ve made more than enough Fusion-related mistakes to know what’s the right way and the wrong way to go about it,” Pearl says and neatly vaults the counter, crossing the room to the Temple door in five long strides and disappearing into her room.

Steven and Connie look at each other.

“Do you think we upset her?” Connie says.

“Yeah, I think we did.”

“Bummer.”


	28. Children's Wisdom

With a conversation ending in fiasco, Connie and Steven now have two things on their hands: making sure Pearl is OK in addition to their original plan.

“She’s locked me out,” Steven says, stroking the temple door.

“We really messed this one up, huh?” Connie says with a nervous laugh.

“Don’t worry, she’ll come around. Pearl is strong.”

Despite the reassurance, Connie nibbles her thumb nail — a leftover from a nail biting habit she used to have. Old fears provoke old coping mechanisms.

“I’m thinking we could find Amethyst?” Steven suggests.

“You know her better than I do.”

“She’s probably in her room,” Steven says after pondering for a moment.

“In the temple? Can you get in there?” Connie asks.

“I don’t know. I can open to Mom’s room, but…”

Connie ponders the predicament for a little. “Well, your mom was the leader, right? Stands to reason she could access all of the temple.”

Steven nods slowly. “Yeah… It’s just, I usually ask the door to open for me, but the Gems don’t.”

Connie shrugs. “Try?”

Steven focuses his attention on the temple door. To his memory there is a distinct feeling assocaited with opening the door to Rose’s room and he focuses on that.

His gem glows softly as Steven **knocks** on the door to Amethyst’s room. The familiar purple slime effect splits the door in two, revealing the cavernous space inside. “She might not be in here, though.”

Connie turns around and runs over to Steven’s storage closet.

“Connie, what are you—”

She emerges with a megaphone in hand.

* * *

“ _Amethyy~st!_ ” Steven’s amplified voice rings out in the spacious cavern system that constitutes her room.

“Coming!” A very faint voice can be heard in the distance.

“I guess she’s here,” Steven says.

They wait together for a minute. Connie looks over the nearby trash piles, picking up various bits of junk for closer inspection.

“Oh, hi Steven.” Amethyst says, coming up to them from behind a pile. “And Connie— Are you sure you two should be wandering around the temple? There’s some seriously dangerous things lying around… And how did you get in anyway?”

“I figured out how to open the door,” Steven explains.

“It’s OK, we’re only here to find you,” Connie adds.

Amethyst looks at her quizzically. “Whadda ya need?”

“It’s… It’s about fusion,” Steven says.

Amethyst looks from one to the other. “Do you need advice? Techniques? New ideas? Toys? Somewhere private to hang out?”

Steven shake his head. “No, it’s about fusion in general. And you guys. We tried talking to Pearl, but I think we upset her.”

Amethyst pinches the bridge of her nose. “Oh no. What did you say?”

Connie steps forward. “It was my idea to talk to her. It’s just that we think — with respect — that you three are…” Connie hesitates. “You’ve Fused.”

Amethyst nods as if this is some great insight and not a completely obvious fact.

“And, you know how great it is?” Connie says.

“Well, yeah,” Amethyst says, then mutters to herself: “Whenever it doesn’t end in disaster.”

“Fusion is powerful magic. It’s hard to control and all that,” Connie continues.

“You’ve definitely been talking to Pearl.”

“So, I was thinking: Fusion practice.”

Amethyst would do a spit take had she had a drink. She sputters briefly. “Wh— Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”

Steven speaks up. “It’s just an idea, OK? You can just tell us we’re wrong.”

“No, I mean. That’s actually not a bad idea. It’s actually a great idea. Or it would have been back before… Well.”

“Yeah, Pearl was hostile to the suggestion,” Connie says. “But it seems the optimal course of action would be to actually master your Fusions. They are immensely powerful from what I hear.”

“Too powerful sometimes,” Amethyst says and looks down.

Steven walks up to her, and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Sugilite going on a rampage was not your fault, Amethyst. Pearl and I left her alone by the communication hub — if we had stayed behind we could have kept her company and none of it would have happened.”

“Yeah. I remember: Sugilite was hurt and angry… How did you know?”

Steven shrugs. “I just thought about how I would feel if I was a giant woman, you know?”

Amethyst ruffles his hair. “Since when did you get so smart?”

Steven chuckles. “The smart part is Connie.”

Connie laughs and blushes.

“Oh, aren’t you two just the cutest thing,” Amethyst says. “I like your idea, Connie. I think it could work. And yeah, it’d be like Pearl to reject it, especially these days.”

“Do you think we should take it up with Garnet?” Steven asks.

“Garnet is going to reject it too. Fusion is too special to her. It’s funny, really; Pearl thinks we should only fuse in dire _times_ , and Garnet thinks one should only fuse with special _people_.”

Connie tilts her head. “Really?”

“Fusion is special to her. Fusing just to master it like a skill goes against what she believes— what Rube and Saph believe. Those two little dorks love each other so much it’s crazy.”

“But—” Connie says. “It’s not like practicing Fusion would make it mundane or boring. Steven, if we formed Stevonnie just to practice, do you think we’d mind?”

Steven shakes his head. “No, I mean, Stevonnie unfused the day we held a beach party, just to try out what would happen if we changed clothes. And then we fused afterwards with music and a dance and everything. It was pretty nice, and a lot of good practice.”

(It is such with inspiration that it often comes, and then your train of thought continues a few stops before you notice and backtrack.)

“Wait up,” Steven says, holding up a finger. “Steven has an idea.”

Connie perks up.

“What we need isn’t Fusion practice. It’s Fusing for fun!”

Amethyst looks at him with wrinkled brow. “I don’t understand, Fusion already _is_ fun.”

“What Steven means is fusing for frivolous reasons,” Connie explains. “Right?”

“Yeah, that,” Steven says.

“I don’t know…” Amethyst says.

“You already made Alexandrite for a dinner party, and then again to chase down a bus. Right?” Steven continues.

Amethyst shrugs. “Alexandrite is tricky.”

“But imagine if you form Opal on every mission! We could beat all the monsters really quickly! You could shoot down Peridot next time she tries to fly away!”

“Pearl wouldn’t agree to that.”

“Why not?” Connie says. “It makes sense tactically.”

“Yeah but… We’re brittle. Pearl and I clash about a lot of things, and… I think Fusion, and especially Opal reminds her of Rose.”

“Oh,” Connie says. “Rainbow Quartz.”

“Yeah,” Amethyst says.

Steven solemnly raises a finger and clears his throat. “Forming Rainbow Quartz for my dad’s music video is exactly the kind of thing I am talking about.”

“Yeah,” Connie says. “Didn’t we kind of fuse that day with the beach party, just to see what Stevonnie might do?”

Steven nods.

Amethyst rubs her chin. “Where did you say Pearl was?”

“She went into her room,” Connie says.

“Why do you ask?” Steven asks.

“Amethyst has an idea,” the purple gem says. “Steven, Connie… It was nice talking.”


	29. I am She as She is Me

Amethyst bids adieu and turns into a bird. Steven and Connie returns to Steven’s room, at once both encouraged and discouraged.

“Do you think we should heed Amethyst’s advice and avoid Garnet?” Connie asks.

“Yeah, that’s probably wise. I don’t feel like upsetting anyone, and Garnet is scary when she’s upset.”

“So, do you wanna test Ronaldo’s idea about the Wand?” Connie says.

Steven’s expression flickers with aversion. “Nnh… I don’t know.”

“Oh. Sorry. The time-travel thing?” Connie says.

“Yeah. It was pretty scary.”

“But you wrote a song about it, right?”

“I needed a solid subject matter.”

Connie rubs her chin. “I have an idea.”

* * *

Connie has spent the last half hour writing something. Steven isn’t sure what, and is in general an impatient brat; but he respects Connie enough to (barely) contain his curiosity.

(So he has of course been spending the time climbing around the rafters, jumping from one to the other, walking across them as if on a tightrope and in general exploring the concept of not having to be clumsy on purpose.)

Connie meanwhile has pondered the problem for a good while in advance — not directly in relation to the Duplicator Wand, mind — in the context of fiction.

“I could really use some specifics on what this thing can and can’t do,” she remarks, twirling the artifact between two fingers.

“Are you done?” Steven asks from above.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

Steven somersaults down, landing next to the sofa table making the jar of pencils jump from the force of the impact.

“Lemme see!”

Connie dexterously snatches the paper with her mystery notes away from him. Around the table are strewn balled-up sheets with failed attempts.

“Not right now.”

“Oh,” Steven says and retracts his hand. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK. It’s a mantra.”

“A what now?”

Connie smiles a knowing smile — the one that identifies an intellectually disposed person about to give a very informative impromptu lecture on a subject which they are familiar.

“A mantra is a kind of… Poetry, I guess,” Connie explains. “They are designed to be memorized and then chanted either out loud, or silently, during meditation in order to provoke certain states of mind. They originate from eastern religion like Hinduism and Buddhism in the form of prayers, but are useful for a lot of other things too.”

“… What’s meditation?”

Connie’s smile grows, and she continues. “Meditation is a technique for clearing your mind of all thought to gain clarity, reflection, energy, and serenity. Mostly my parents use it to combat stress. I’ve read that many martial arts schools have meditation sessions after training…”

Steven listens intently.

“To meditate, a common technique is to sit comfortably and perfectly still in a quiet room, think about nothing in particular, and breathe deeply, focusing on internal sensations — particularly paying attention to one’s breathing.”

Steven tilts his head. “Then what?”

“Then nothing. You sit like that for anywhere from ten minutes to an hour, usually.”

“Sounds boring,” Steven says.

Connie opens her mouth to protest, but hesitates, scratching her head. “I guess it’s kind of like taking a nap, really. Except instead of sinking into the buxom of drowsiness, you float up towards the fingertips of reflective introspection.”

Steven nods understandingly. “Naps, I can get behind… So, what now?”

“I am going to meditate to prepare myself mentally, then we are going to duplicate me.”

* * *

Outside on the beach, Connie kicks off her shoes and girds up her green skirt before stepping into the surf.

“You know, I am still against this, right? What are you—?” Steven says, leaning on a light rifle, carrying her favored saber. (She insisted.)

“It’s for the ambiance. I’m going to start meditating now.”

Steven sighs and sits down, looking out over the ocean. A minute passes. Then two. Then three. Steven starts digging in the sand with the gun stock, then grows bored of that.

He draws the saber. It’s a beautiful sword. Testing, he swings it, twirls it, takes a practiced stance. Connie’s memories — Pearl hasn’t gotten around to training Steven in swordplay (the only training so far has been Garnet’s rather brutal exercise regimen; but Steven is no ordinary boy in terms of athletic ability.)

 _Fusion transfers memories._ Steven thinks. _But I don’t remember other stuff which I know Connie has seen._ He files away the question for later, perhaps to ask Garnet.

Steven sheathes the saber again, and goes to lie down in the sand. The Wand in his back pocket pokes him, and he pulls it out and examines it; lying on his back in the sand.

Then Connie breaks the silence.

“ _If I am a clone, I will protect and aid my true self._

“ _If I am a just a human, I will respect and utilize my copy._

“ _When I am smoke and mirrors, I am an asset; expendable. Connie is all that matters. I don’t matter._

“ _When I am flesh and blood, I am a liability; irreplaceable. My clones don’t matter. Only I matter._

“ _I shall not want to be what I am not; I shall not mourn. That is the state of affairs; how it was, how it is, how it will be._ ”

Connie pulls her feet out of the wet sand where her feet have sunk down under the lazy movement of the waves. Wordlessly she walks over to Steven, and holds out a hand. Steven hands her the wand, and with an expression of scary determination she hands him the Circlet and her phone.

With a deep breath, she shuts her eyes and touches the wand to her forehead. The wispy glow envelops her from head to toe — a slight tickle, like static electricity, follows it. A droplet of sweat forms on her temple, as she flicks the wand towards the sand in front of her…

* * *

With a deep breath, she touches the wand to her forehead. Then there is no wand. She opens her eyes and sees someone, in a girded green skirt and gray blouse, standing next to Steven.

“You are a copy,” She says in a familiar, yet off-kilter voice.

“I am a copy,” Connie repeats, and it _clicks_. “I… am a copy…”

* * *

“Whoa…” the Connie-clone says.

“Ditto,” Steven mutters.

Connie is kind of speechless. “Are… Are you feeling all right?”

The Connie-clone runs a hand through her hair. “Yeah, I… It’s a little overwhelming.”

“Remember the mantra,” Connie implores.

“Yeah. Right. Right, right,” she says and closes her eyes. She puts her right fist in her left palm, and takes a deep breath.

“ _I am a clone, I will protect and aid my true self,_ ” the clone says, and opens her eyes.

“ _I am a just a human, I will respect and utilize my copy,_ ” Connie replies.

“ _I am smoke and mirrors, I am an asset; expendable. You all that matters. I don’t matter._ ”

“ _I am flesh and blood, I am a liability; irreplaceable. You don’t matter. Only I matter._ ”

“ _I shall not want to be what I am not._ ”

“ _That is the state of affairs…_ ”

“ _… how it was…_ ”

“ _… how it is…_ ”

“ _… how it will be._ ”

The two stand there, looking solemn and severe as the light breeze makes their hair flow dramatically. Steven looks from one to the other in awe.

Then the spell breaks as they both erupt in giggles, and run towards one another, and embrace.

“It worked!” Connie — or is it the clone? — squeals.

“I can’t believe it, it actually worked!” The other one says.

One picks the other up and swings her around, and they cackle madly.

Steven starts clapping. “This is so cool. Which one is which?” He asks.

“I’m the clone,” one of them says immediately.

“That’s true,” the other Connie says.

Steven looks from one to the other. “I really need a way to tell you two apart.”


	30. Consequence-free Living

Clone-Connie, now with a forehead adorned with a big ‘X’ in permanent marker, is hanging upside down from the rafters, while Steven and Connie look at her, both smiling.

“So… How does it feel to be a clone?” Steven asks.

Clone Connie shrugs. “The same, more or less, I think. Except I— I guess danger doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” Connie says. “Not unnecessarily anyway.”

Clone Connie drops, spins in the air and lands hard, stumbles and falls over — the absence of the circlet making itself known. “Ow,” she says, and laughs. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t matter! I can do all the dangerous stuff for you! And the unhealthy stuff!”

She runs up to the kitchen counter and vaults it — her foot clips and she tumbles over, falling awkwardly. Connie and Steven wince and rush to her aid.

She laughs, rises and opens the fridge door.

“Wait—” Steven says.

She retrieves a dinner plate: a carrot, some peas, traces of mash, and a quarter of a steak. Promptly she picks up a pea and stuffs it up her nose.

Connie and Steven stare in disbelief. “… Eww~,” they say in unison.

Then she sends another one up to join the first. She shivers and laughs. “It tickles.”

Steven and Connie share a horrified glance. No sooner do they look back than the clone has found a mayonnaise jar and a spoon.

* * *

After… Sampling… The sugar, mayonnaise, and mustard (resulting in a lot of yelling — a spoonful of mustard isn’t easy on the nasal cavities,) interspersed with more nasal peas, then culminated with snorting said peas back, then coughing them up and chewing them in an impressive display of velar dexterity.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” Connie says. “Can we focus on what’s important here?”

“OK. Like what?” the clone asks.

Steven clears his throat. “What are we going to call you?”

The clone rubs her chin for a moment. “I’m a Clone-Connie… That makes me… —” She snickers “— That makes me… Clonnie, right?”

Steven looks at Connie, who shrugs.

“I guess that’s as good as any name,” Connie says. “We need to find out some stuff.”

“How long I’m going to last, how good I am at sword fighting, and if we can duplicate the Circlet,” Clonnie recites.

“Yeah. Exactly that,” Connie says.

Clonnie snickers. “I’m you, remember? I have a great idea, though: we should totally make another Clonnie!”

Connie looks at Steven, who shrugs and draws the wand, raising it.

“No! Stop!” Clonnie yells, reaching for the wand. A flash of horror crosses her face, and she retracts her hand. “Sorry,” she mutters.

“It’s OK,” Steven says.

“For goodness sakes, don’t make another _me_ me. Take a new copy.”

Steven hands Connie the wand. Connie closes her eyes and mumbles the mantra to herself, before applying the wand to her forehead. She holds out a hand towards Steven. “Circlet.”

He obliges and she dons the golden band. Then she swings the wand and conjures another clone.

The second Clonnie opens her eyes and immediately recites the first line of the mantra in a quiet voice. Connie replies in close sync. The whole exchange takes barely twenty seconds.

The first Clonnie has meanwhile found the permanent marker and promptly tosses it to her new kin, who catches it. “You’re ‘Z’, OK?”

The second Clonnie smiles and draws the letter on her forehead. “We should do a Clonnie-on-Clonnie duel, ‘X’, what do you say?”

Clonnie X shrugs. “I took a nasty fall. I think I sprained my ankle. Connie Prime, could you Unmake me?”

Connie looks at X. Then at the wand.

“ _I shall not mourn_ , remember?” Clonnie Z says.

Connie hesitates for a moment, then raises the wand and **unmakes** X.

The Clonnie disappears in a blink, and… _something_ … falls onto the floor. Something _wet_ and _smelly_.

Steven, Connie, and Clonnie Z stare at it for a beat. “Is… Is that the food she ate?” Z asks.

“That would make sense,” Steven says. “It smells like mustard.”

Clonnie steps over the puddle of partially digested things and grabs the mayo jar from the counter.

“You should duplicate the mayo, mustard, sugar and peas.”

Connie looks suspiciously at Clonnie. “Why?”

“First, because why should X get to have all the fun? Second, because then you don’t get a mess each time.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Steven says.

* * *

Steven and Connie sits on the sand while Clonnie Z and a newly made Clonnie Q (both of whom have sampled various duplicated condiments) stand opposite of one another in a circle in the sand.

“Let this be the perfect battle,” Z says.

“You’ve already made a mistake by challenging me,” Q replies.

Steven leans over to Connie while the clones draw their cloned sabres.

“Is that also a mantra?”

Connie shrugs.

With noticeably decreased agility and skill owing to the lack of circlets, the two clones come at each other, as evenly matched in swordplay as can be expected from literal copies…

* * *

And then Q missteps and Z cuts her arm — a red stripe from wrist to elbow, shallow but bleeding. Nothing Connie hasn’t had before when she got clipped, fencing with Pearl.

Steven and Connie come over and Steven licks his palm.

“Don’t bother,” Q says belatedly.

“It’d be good to know if healing works at all, Q,” Z says, inspecting her sabre. She licks the blood off the edge with curious fascination.

Steven absentmindedly applies his handful of saliva to Q’s wound while looking intently at Z’s marcabre display.

Q rubs her arm. Z plunges the blade into the sand to clean it — a move which Pearl had derided Connie for as it dulls the blade.

“I think it works,” Q says after a few dozen seconds, showing her forearm healed. Then she turns and throws her sword out to sea.

“What did you do that for?” Z asks offended.

“I don’t feel like fencing anymore,” Q says staring after where the sword drew a glinting arc through the air. “Look at how far we can throw that thing.”

Steven leans over to Connie. “This is starting to creep me out,” he whispers.


	31. Cloning Blues

Connie looks from Z to Q.

Z is obviously measuring her sword up for a throw. “Do you think I can throw it farther than you?”

Q sits down in the sand. “If you can’t we can settle it with a wrestling match.”

“We might knock out some teeth? That is such a great idea,” Z says.

The duplicator wand hits the sand, and the two turn at the diminutive noise.

Connie looks at them with a disappointed and horrified frown. Then she starts running back towards the beach house.

The two Clonnies look after her, dumbfounded. Steven picks up the gem artifact and pockets it before picking up the saber and light rifle and walking after her.

“Did we upset her?” Q asks.

“Yeah. Yeah you did,” Steven says bitterly, trudging on.

Z shrugs. “If she’s upset with us, then she is upset with herself. She can just unmake us, right?”

Steven swivels around to face them. “You two are being wads. You made Connie run away, and you’ve been creeping me out since the first of you started eating my condiments with a spoon.

“You even said it yourself! Connie is irreplaceable and it’s up to you to protect her! Well, that goes for feelings too!” Then he turns and breaks into a run.

Q and Z look at each other.

“I’m going to…” Q says and points towards the sea.

“I’ll help you look,” Z says.

* * *

Steven finds Connie sitting on the beach house deck with her back against the wall. She’s looking out over the sea through tears slowly rolling down her cheeks, sniffling so silently you might miss it.

Steven sits down beside her. “Hey.”

“Steven, am— am I crazy?” she says with choked up voice.

Steven looks at her.

“I’m… Them. You know? They’re me, aren’t they? And then they go and do all these dangerous things. Hurt themselves, eat things that are bad for you, mistreat Pearl’s sabre… She licked blood off the blade, who does that!?” She says and breaks into heaving sobs.

“Well… All the future Stevens were doing crazy things too. Fighting each other. Hurting each other,” he says and puts a hand on her shoulder. “And it was all me… All me… So if having clones that do crazy things makes you crazy, then… At least we’re crazy together, right?”

Connie pulls him into a hug. They sit there for a while, and she cries into his shoulder, making a damp spot on his shirt.

Once the sobs have subsided, and Connie has regained some composure she pulls back, eyes red and face puffy. “I don’t think this was a good idea. I think we should get rid of that wand.”

“Hey—”

They turn to the voice.

There at the end of the deck stand Z and Q, dripping wet, sand covering their feet. Both of them with a sheathed sabre at their side (one glistening wet, one dry.)

“What do _you_ want,” Connie says with venom in her voice.

In perfect lockstep they walk across the boards towards Steven and Connie. Steven stands and offers Connie a hand, which she uses to pull herself to her feet.

The two duplicates stop a few paces away, and promptly fall to one knee. There, kneeling with bowed heads they present their blades with one hand, holding the other over their hearts. The synchrony would be eerie if it wasn’t so heartfelt.

“We’re sorry,” Clonnie Z says.

“We were inconsiderate,” Clonnie Q says.

“You are irreplaceable, you are all that matters,” Z says.

“And we are expendable, we don’t matter,” Q says.

“If we lose our heads and freak you out, then we are not worthy,” Z says.

“We have acted carelessly, and lost our purpose,” Q says.

“Our lives are forfeit,” Z says.

“Unmake us. It’s what we deserve,” Q says.

Connie looks down at the two. At herself in two duplicates kneeling before her.

“Stand up,” she says, and they obey promptly. “You two goofed, OK? But… I was the one who made you. I brought this on myself.”

“No! Look, it’s overwhelming, OK? But that is no excuse for us to be creepy and do strange things!” Z protests.

“Yeah! It’s not your fault, it’s our fault. We couldn’t keep our cool just because we got duplicated,” Q adds.

“But, you’re both _me_ ,” Connie says.

Z and Q both step back and holds their swords to the chest. “No, we’re not. We’re just clones. We’re assets; we’re expendable,” Q says.

“You’re the one that matters, Connie,” Z adds.

Connie wipes her eyes. “Come here you two,” she says and pulls them into a hug. “I’ll do better next time, OK?”

“We know you will. We’re you, remember?” Q says.

Connie pulls back. “So why _did_ you do all those things?”

Z shrugs. “It’s all the stuff you’re not allowed to do. All the stupid things mom and dad told us never to do.”

“Mostly it was just to try it. Just to defy her. And to be honest, it’s not that great. Mayonnaise is kinda disgusting by the spoonful,” Q adds.

“I think somehow we hoped you’d live vicariously through us,” Z says.

“Or maybe not, what about when you licked my blood?” Q asks. “That was gross.”

“We saw it in a movie. That one with the British spies? It’s not even that great,” Z explains.

“Promise me you won’t do that anymore, OK?” Connie asks.

Q looks at Z, and Z looks back at Q. They both look at Connie.

“No,” Q says and smiles.

“No?” Connie asks.

“Promise yourself. We’re you, remember?” Z says.

“Also, we’re kinda cold and clammy here. Do you thing you could…” Q says and makes a wand-wavy gesture.

“Yeah, yeah I could. Thanks you guys. Apology accepted,” Connie says.

Q and Z bow in unison, and Steven hands Connie the wand.


	32. Finite Resources

The two clones leave this world, and Connie is left with a paradoxical feeling of heavy levity. She turns over the wand, looking from it to where the Clonnies had been standing a moment ago.

“It feels weird to just unmake them like this… Without a proper reason,” she says.

“Are you OK?” Steven asks.

Connie clutches the wand to her chest and looks into the wind. “I’m better.”

Steven takes her hand. “Let’s have a cup of tea.”

* * *

Tea is widely know to be a ‘hug in a cup’, and there’s something about this saying: the warmth of the cup, to the human senses, mimics the warmth of another person.

With a cup of herbal tea, the problems of the world seem a little smaller, and in good company even the worst things are bearable.

Connie sips her chamomile, Steven spreads jam on biscuits.

(For those in Europe, that means a savory scone made with shortening rather than butter, not a trice-baked bread.)

“We need to test whether the circlet works when copied,” Connie says.

“If you’re up for it? I mean, we can stop for today if you want…”

“I’m OK, Steven… Though, I may have some issue to work through.”

Steven puts a hand on her shoulder. She looks at him, and he smiles.

* * *

Outside on the deck, Steven and Connie has come up with a test: walking tightrope on the edge of a cube scaffold structure — with the circlet on, nearly an effortless task, without it; significantly harder.

With a permanent marker on hand, Connie prepares herself, mouthing the words, closing her eyes and applying the wand. Then she conjures two copies.

“ _I am flesh and blood,_ ” Connie says.

“ _We are smoke and mirrors,_ ” the Clonnies reply.

“Names?” Connie asks.

The Clonnies look at each other. “In honor of our forerunners, we’d like to be named after them.”

Connie hands the marker to one, and she draws the ‘Q’ on her counterpart’s cheek, before handing over the marker to receive a ‘Z’ in turn."

“Are you ready?” Steven asks.

“We’re _so_ ready,” Z says.

Connie removes her circlet and touches the wand to it, and conjures two copies in each Clonnie’s hand. They don them, and the band exhibits the ‘fitting’ mechanism.

Connie puts her own back on.

“I hear something,” Q says.

Z steps up on the edge with one foot, pausing for a moment before lifting herself up. She almost immediately corrects her balance with a small arm movement — less flailing than Connie unaided, but with the circlet, Connie can stand as easily on the edge as on flat ground.

“That’s odd,” Q says.

“Try closing your eyes,” Steven says.

Z complies.

“No, I mean, Connie,” he clarifies.

“Why?” Connie asks.

Steven shrugs. “I have a hunch.”

Connie complies and Z immediately flails noticeably. “Whoop. That was unexpected.”

“Now try taking it off,” Steven says to Connie.

Connie slowly removes the circlet and as soon as it leaves her head, Z reflexively turns sideways and does a full arm swing backwards to maintain her balance.

“I can’t hear anything now,” Q complains.

“It’s like a radio?” Connie wonders. “I’m the broadcast, and the copies just pick up my signal?”

“And as long as you’re watching Clonnie with a circlet, it applies to both of you, but not as well, it seems,” Steven concludes.

“That’s good to know,” Connie says and steps up on the scaffold herself. “Huh. Z, try and step down?”

Z obliges and Connie rubs her chin thoughtfully. “OK, if my circlet has to compensate for you guys too, it seems it does worse for me. I don’t think duplicated circlets are a good idea.”

“Agreed,” Z says. “Almost-good-enough is pretty annoying compared to the real deal.”

“Yeah, I’d imagine,” Connie agrees.

Q and Z remove their circlets, and Connie unmakes the duplicated artifacts.

A slight hum from inside the temple signifies the temple door opening. Steven and Connie look in through the window just in time to see Amethyst coming out of Pearl’s room, staring back at them.

Silently she raises a finger and points from Connie to Clonnie to Clonnie, as if counting. “Pea~rl!” She yells over her shoulder. Some sort of reply comes from Pearl inside, too quiet for them to make out through the intervening wall.

Pearl appears in the door, looking over Amethyst’s shoulder. After a moment of wide-eyed surprise flashing across her face, she grabs Amethyst by the wrist and crosses the entire depth of the beach house in an eye blink, breaking the door off the hinges as she bursts through it.

(Which as per tradition Amethyst is going to rebuild with the hinges on the opposite side, because it annoys people.)

“What on Earth is going on here?” Pearl shrieks, a hairs breath from adopting a combat stance and drawing her spear, next to a well-shaken Amethyst rubbing her wrist, split between being miffed at the manhandling and rendered speechless at the three identical kids in front of her.

Connie holds up the Duplicator Wand.

Pearl raises a finger and opens her mouth, but manages to produce nothing resembling a coherent, let alone articulate remark. “Whu—?” She eventually manages.

“It works on people,” Z explains.

“Hi Pearl,” Q says. “We’re clone-Connies.”

“Or ‘Clonnies’ if you will,” Z adds.

“She’s the real one,”Q says and points at Connie.

Pearl and Amethyst are all but dumbstruck. After just staring for two seconds, Amethyst breaks the silence. “Wohoo~w,” she hollers and throws a fist in the air.


	33. You and What Army?

Pearl regains some measure of composure; finally coming to terms with the fact that her valued pupil has… Done whatever it is she has done.

“You used the Duplicator Wand on yourself?” She says and stalks over to the Clonnies. “Is that even possible?”

She raises Z’s arm and looks under it, then pulls Q’s cheek eliciting a giggle.

“This is unheard of… Or at the very least existentially troubling. Are you handling this appropriately?” Pearl asks.

“Don’t worry Pearl,” Z says. “We’re smoke and mirrors. Connie is all that matters.”

Q nods in agreement.

“This. Is. Awesome,” Amethyst says. “You’re like triplets! And I’m so loving that Clone-Connie/Clonnie thing. It’s catchy. Can you copy me too?”

“No!” Pearl exclaims.

“Why not?” Connie asks.

“It doesn’t work on Gems. Best case, we get a chunk of inert amethyst, worst case we get a mid-sized explosion.”

Connie looks at Steven. “Good thing we duplicated me, then.”

“Yeah. That could have gone —” Steven shivers. “— not so good.”

“Especially since it would most likely duplicate your biological body, but mess up the Gem. Frankly, I have no idea what would happen,” Pearl says. “Well, apart from the case where the duplicated gem would explode.”

Steven shudders again, looking uneasy at the thought.

“Hey, it’s fine. Nothing bad happened yet, right?” Amethyst says. “No worries.”

“Well, some of us Clonnies did act a little weird at first,” Z admits.

Pearl turns to the clone. “How so?”

“We kind of did a lot of stupid things just to try. We’re clones after all— it’s not like we’re meant to last, right?” Z says

Pearl nods. “Even then, duplicated items only last a day at most. You will probably only last an hour. Two at most, before poofing.”

Q looks at Z. “That seems reasonable,” she says.

“Yeah, that’s good enough for most things,” Z says nodding.

Pearl furrows her brow. “You two are all right with… Just ceasing to exist in an hour?”

“We’re ready to put our lives down for Connie. If that means hanging out with her for an hour or two, or participating in… I don’t know— Pranking someone,” Q says.

“Then that is good enough for us,” Z finishes.

Amethyst snickers. “I love that creepy twin schtick.”

“Actually, Pearl,” Connie begins.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering, could you teach me some squad tactics? I will probably take a new… Snapshot every day, so the new Clonnies will have all the skills you teach me. It would make Clonnie a lot more effective since the circlets don’t work on them.”

Pearl smiles overbearingly. “I doubt that they would be any good in a real fight, sadly.”

Z and Q look at each other quizzically. “Why?” they say in unison.

Pearl smiles that smile she smiles when she is right. (You know the one.) “Increasing the number of opponents isn’t really a factor in combat effectiveness. They are too predictable. A well-trained Gem Warrior such as myself would be no more daunted by ten ‘Clonnies’ than by two.”

“Sounds like you’re just chicken,” Z says.

Pearl looks sternly at the Clonnie. “I am most certainly neither poultry nor a coward as you imply. It is simply a plain fact.”

Q quietly imitates a chicken’s clucking: _bwaa~k bwaa~k_.

Amethyst laughs. “I like that one.”

Pearl groans exasperatedly. “I will not stand for your needling.”

Connie clears her throat. “With respect, honored teacher, we have missed a scheduled sword-fighting lesson this week. How about we pick up the slack tomorrow afternoon?”

Pearl regains her composure in an eye-blink. “That is an excellent suggestion, Connie.”

“I’ll be sure to bring an army of ’me’s. I’m sure a powerful Gem Warrior like yourself will prove your combat prowess by defeating us in a spar with ease.”

The two Clonnies both go “ _Ooo~h_.”

“Oh, man Pearl. Now you gotta fight her,” Amethyst says and crosses her arms in appreciation of Connie’s fighting words.

“Very well, you’re _on_ , little miss,” Pearl says staring daggers at Connie. Then she lets a confident grin replace her severe expression. “Prepare to be _soundly_ defeated. And since you’ve already given the time, I shall give the place: we fight in the Sky Arena.”

“Five o’clock,” Connie says, grinning to match Pearl.

“Amethyst, I trust you to be my Second?” Pearl says.

“Oh yeah, no problem. Same routine as always?”

Pearl nods. “Connie, you should choose a trusted friend to act as your representative in ensuring that our the duel is fair.”

“Steven,” Connie says without hesitation.

“Jam Buds,” Steven says, holding out a hand. Connie clasps it.

“We fight to checkmate — forced forfeit, or surrender,” Pearl says.

“’Agreed,” Connie says and they shake hands.

* * *

Pearl leaves by the warp pad for undisclosed reasons, leaving Connie, Clonnies, Steven, and Amethyst alone.

Connie high-fives Z.

“You are such a bad ass, Connie,” Amethyst says, giving her a slow clap. “I’ve never seen anyone get Pearl in the mood for a duel that quickly. But fair warning: she’s _really_ good.”

“She taught us everything we know,” Q says. “We know.”

“I better get a video camera. Maybe even an audience,” Steven says. “This is going to be _so cool_.”

“… What have I gotten myself into?” Connie says and runs a hand through her hair dismayed, but smiling.

“Hey, at least you’ve taken her mind off all the fusion drama, and your earlier disaster of a conversation,” Amethyst says. “Even if she does kick your butt, at least you got that.”

“Go team Connie,” Q helpfully cheers.

“Yeah! Go Connie,” Steven joins in.


	34. Coach Garnet

It is night, and then it is morning again. Connie went home soon after the duel was agreed upon, and Steven and her have been sharing a flurry of texts over the course of the evening and subsequent morning before Connie had to leave for school, planning and discussing.

Now, Steven is trying to think of what to spend the day on until five PM, lying in bed with an empty bowl of cereal while the morning sun shines through the windows next to his bed.

“Hi Steven,” Garnet says, rousing Steven from his contemplation.

“Garnet? What are you doing up so early?”

“It’s ten-thirty AM. And it’s time for a five mile run.”

With a flash of light Garnet is in her maroon jersey, tights and sneakers. Steven groans.

* * *

Garnet fills water bottles, and Steven ties his running shoes. “Why only five miles? Last time we ran we were up to eight.”

“We’ve slacked off due to Peridot’s interference. And we’re also going to expand on your regimen today.”

“Hopefully not _more_ running,” Steven mutters.

“I’m going to start teaching you hand-to-hand combat.”

Steven looks up. “Like… Boxing?”

“Not exactly boxing, but you’re on the right track. You’re also onto something with throwing your shield, but I could teach you a couple of tricks your mother used to do.”

Steven is standing by the door, readier than ever, when Garnet turns around.

* * *

“Running —” Steven pants “— is a lot harder — in sand.”

Garnet of course neglected to mention that they would not be running around the Beach City border like they used to.

“Run in the wet sand, Steven. It’s denser,” Garnet says, running beside him in impeccable form despite the adverse terrain.

At her suggestion Steven steers towards the surf. “Thanks,” He says.

“When we’re halfway, we’ll turn around and run back, OK?”

Steven nods and presses on. Garnet hands him a water bottle before he even thinks to ask for it. _Future vision,_ he notes, once again amazed at it’s usefulness.

* * *

Garnet ran ahead on the last mile and has set up the training area. Steven arrives in front of the Temple to find a ring of thick rope in the sand, a punching bag hanging from a tripod of wood posts pounded into the sand, and a parasol with a floating tray of refreshments in it’s shade.

“How are you feeling?” Garnet asks.

“I — think I like the — parasol and refreshments — best, if my — options are that — or a punching bag.”

Garnet snickers. “Catch your breath you little jester, and have a drink of water. Then we’ll start with some stretches.”

* * *

“There’s two basic kinds of attacks in hand-to-hand combat: wrestling, and striking. First you’re gonna how to punch, kick, and deflect incoming blows,” Garnet says and puts a hand on the punching bag.

“Yeah, Amethyst already taught me wrestling, so no point in starting out with what I am already good at, right?”

Garnet laughs. “I’m not talking about Pro Wrestling. What I’m gonna teach you is _hardcore_ ,” she says and adjusts her visor for emphasis.

Steven looks at her with starry eyes.

* * *

After an hour of wrestling a Steven-sized Garnet (since creatures one size-category larger automatically succeed their contesting Grapple rolls,) and punching the punching bag until his knuckles hurt, Steven welcomes the implied change of pace when Garnet tells him to summon his shield.

From Sapphire’s gem, Garnet withdraws a shield: a concave disc of polished steel, with leather handhold riveted to the back.

“Whoa. That’s a really cool shield,” Steven says.

“Thanks. I made it soon after you first summoned your shield as a training aide for when you had mastered summoning it.”

“You know metalworking?”

“Among other things, yes. One of the things you still need to master, is summoning your shield at any time, and as many times in a row as you need.”

“How do I get better at that?”

“Usually, by summoning and dismissing it repeatedly. But first, let’s teach you how to throw with _power._ ”

* * *

“You’re a good coach, Garnet.”

Training hour is over, and Garnet is pulling the posts out of the sand while Steven sits in the shade.

“Do you know what time it is?” He asks.

“Twelve thirty PM,” Garnet says without consulting a watch.

“Still almost five hours…”

“Until what?” Garnet asks him.

“Pearl and Connie have a duel today.”

Garnet halts and looks directly at Steven. (Well as direct as one can deduce when she is wearing sunglasses.) “Why would Pearl challenge Connie to a duel?”

“Well, Connie and I found out that we can duplicate her with the duplicator wand, and then Pearl was all ‘such things are no match for a Gem Warrior’ and then Connie goaded her and she agreed to a duel.”

“That’s reckless, going up against Pearl. Connie should know she doesn’t stand a chance. Pearl should know that too. I ought to talk some sense into Pearl…” Garnet sits down next to Steven.

“No, no, no. It’s not like that. It’s a friendly thing… I think. And Amethyst says it’s good that we took Pearl’s mind off… You know.”

Garnet nods. “Still. A duel is dangerous. Connie is just a human. Pearl should be the bigger Gem here.”

“Connie can handle herself, Garnet. Besides, she won’t be fighting alone. She’ll have a whole army of Clonnies with her.”

“Clonnies?”

“Clone Connies.”

Garnet snickers.

“You should totally come along and watch it. It’s at five o’clock in the Sky Arena.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that's a reference to Grappling in Dungeons & Dragons 5th Edition, famous for having a Grapple mechanic that makes sense.


	35. Countdown

Seventh grade lets out in the early afternoon, and Connie walks from Avalon High School to the residential neighborhoods, as always. It has been difficult for her to concentrate all day — to the point where her teacher asked if something was bothering her.

A stammered reply: she had a martial arts test later, fencing. It was accepted, but Connie is fairly certain her homeroom teacher will inquire with her parents.

 _I need to tell them,_ is at the forefront of her mind as she walks home. It’s almost funny how much her life has turned upside down — starting with getting a real friend, and now having an honor duel with the immortal alien who taught her sword fighting.

And mother and father have been complacent with her hanging around Steven — even expressing their approval of him.

(“He’s a sweet kid,” her mother has said. Her father hasn’t said much, but he rarely does.)

And apparently mother has contacted some old friends from med school about a very low profile initial investigation into the healing water’s effects and composition. Not that it is getting anywhere fast.

Connie walks through the harsher parts of town — it’s shorter, past the docks. (The industry of Crossroads has suffered under globalization of the shipping business, and worse under the move to white collar work of the Information Age — so her father has lectured her.)

(And she has been explicitly told to walk out east to High Street, around the docks, when coming home — adding fifteen minutes to her travel time.)

But Connie doesn’t. Instead she has sewn a secret pocket in her backpack, where she keeps a twenty-one inch, collapsible self defense baton she pilfered from her dad’s store of them — one accumulates such things in his line of work. It is cheap, but servicable.

Coupled with her circlet, grown men wouldn’t stand a chance. She makes it home without incident — street crime is a rarity after all.

* * *

Her father is home, working from home: his new company is budding and there is a lot of paperwork to handle and deals to broker. He spends workdays either at meetings, scouting for office spaces, discussing strategies with his partners, or here in his study by his laptop.

Connie quietly knocks on the door. “Come in,” he calls from within. She opens the door.

“Father, are you and mother doing anything at around five this afternoon?”

He looks up and swivels around in his office chair. “You have something you would like us to attend?”

Connie nervously clutches her arm. “You know Pearl has been giving me fencing lessons” — he nods — “and, well. I got into a disagreement with her about… My level of skill.”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What then?”

“We’re kind of having a… Duel?” Connie says and preemptively flinches.

Doug furrows his brow. “Like, a _duel_ duel?”

“It’s nothing dangerous,” she hastens to clarify. “We fight until one of us gets disarmed, or forfeits. We call it ‘checkmate’ rules, because it’s like chess, but anyway… I’d like you to come and see it.”

Doug nods. “Where is it held?”

“Well… It’s in a floating magical arena up in the sky. You can teleport to it from Steven’s house.”

“So, Beach City, by five? I’ll call up your mother and let her know.”

“Thanks, father.”

“How was your day?”

“Nothing to report.”

* * *

Steven spends the early afternoon with Amethyst preparing the Sky Arena to hold an audience. They buy microwavable popcorn, and sodas — a cooler full of ice packs kept cool with a super ice cube serves to provide for two other coolers full of cans.

(Keeping soda in the same cooler as a super ice cube would merely freeze the stuff solid.)

From some junk pile, Amethyst has retrieved a gasoline powered generator, and three professional-grade microwaves which only needed a slight cleaning and some new fuses.

(When and how Amethyst learned to perform rudimentary repairs on consumer electronics befuddles Steven.)

“So, who are you thinking of inviting?” Amethyst asks Steven as they sit on the upper steps of the amphitheater next to coolers, microwaves, and a ghetto blaster.

“Lots of people,” Steven says, counting on his fingers. “Dad, Lars, Sadie, Peedee, Buck, Sour Cream, Jenny, Kiki, Ronaldo, Jamie…”

Amethyst smiles. “Why not Onion? You’re friends.”

Steven shudders. “He’s really weird. Like, really, really weird. To be honest, he creeps me out sometimes. It’s not his fault though…. I think.”

“Well, I’m thinking of inviting Vidalia along, and she might take Onion along, so…”

“I guess that’s OK… Can we just leave this stuff here?” Steven says, pointing at the equipment they’ve spent the better part of an hour setting up.

Amethyst ruffles his hair. “It’s fine. We’re a kilometer above ground; there’s no birds. But good thinking, little man.”

* * *

So Steven takes a tour around Beach City inviting people to what will in his words be ‘an awesome sword fight,’ inviting everyone he wanted to and then some (but of course a lot of people have other plans.) Then at four he finds Lion after some searching and they jump to Crossroads.

Steven lets Lion go in the empty lot down the street, and walks the rest of the way to the Maheswaran residence. Doug greets him at the door.

“Hello, Steven.”

“Hi Mr. Maheswaran, is Connie home?”

“You’re here to pick her up for the… Duel? And call me Doug.”

“Yes, I am. And I will Mr.— er, Doug. Sir.”

“She’s in the backyard. Follow me.”

Connie sits in the grass of their small lawn, in her overalls with a wooden training sword lying in the grass beside her.

“She’s been sitting like that for half an hour,” Doug explains and opens the back door for Steven. “Connie? Steven is here.”

“Thank you,” Steven says and steps out. Behind him, Doug leaves the door open and retreats into the house once more. “Hi Connie.”

“Hi Steven,” Connie says, staring into the grass with a serious expression.

“… What are you doing?”

“Visualization training. I’m trying to figure out how to fight side by side with a lot of ’me’s.”

Steven walks over to her and picks up the wooden sword, then offers her a hand. “Lion’s waiting. There’s a bit of time before the duel; you can practice with the real thing until then. OK?”

She takes his hand and he pulls her to her feet.


	36. Still Before the Storm

It’s twenty to five when the first spectators start loitering outside the Beach House — Steven hasn’t exactly been clear about where the duel is happening.

A text on Connie’s cell notifies her and Steven that her parents are en route. Of the Frymen, Peedee and Ronaldo has made time; and of the Pizzas, Jenny and Nanafua have opted in. Buck and Sour Cream will be there to complete the trio, but Jamie had work.

Greg and Vidalia are there, twenty minutes early, talking, while she holds Onion by the hand.

Garnet has volunteered to make sure everyone gets to the Sky Arena safe and sound, to Steven’s surprise.

Steven and Connie walk from the secluded area of the beach where Connie has been testing out her ideas as if cramming for an exam, with the help of four Clonnies — now dismissed once again.

“Hi son,” Greg says when they get near. “Hi Connie.”

“Hi dad,” Steven says.

“Hello, Mr. Universe,” Connie says.

“Please, call me Greg. Are you ready for the big fight?”

“Less than I would like. But I do have a great coach,” Connie says and nods at Steven.

“Hello, Steven,” Vidalia says.

“Hi Vidalia, hi Onion,” Steven returns the greeting. Onion stares at him, before hiding behind Vidalia’s leg.

“You’re… Sour Cream’s mother, right?” Connie asks.

Vidalia smiles. “The very same. And you’re the little swordswoman today is all about, huh?”

Connie — unused to praise — looks down briefly, blushing. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good luck,” Vidalia says and leans in. “I’ll be rooting for you,” she says in a mock whisper.

* * *

Up on the deck, they find Garnet leaning against the wall next to the door.

“Hi Garnet,” Steven says as they pass her. She doesn’t answer.

* * *

“OK, so Amethyst and Pearl and you and me, are going to make sure everything is proper: that the arena is ‘A’-OK, that there’s no trickery with your swords, and that we agree on the rules,” Steven explains as they walk up the stairs to the vomitorium of the Sky Arena.

“That sound reasonable,” Connie says, clutching the Replicator wand in one hand and her training sword in the other. On her head rests the circlet, and she is clad in the Kalaripayattu uniform.

They descend the steps from the vomitorium to the arena floor, where Pearl and Amethyst are waiting.

“Ah, there you are. How are you feeling, Connie?” Pearl asks.

Connie smirks. “I feel like I can win.”

Pearl chuckles. “Well, well, well. Do you, Connie Maheswaran recall what this duel is for?”

“I do, Sensei. I’m to use my army of Clonnies to fight you. We fight by ‘checkmate’ rules.”

Pearl nods. “I like that honorific. And yes, that is the purpose. Now, I’d hardly expect anything else from one as inexperienced as you than to try to go for the quantity advantage, and so I wish to have access to one Holopearl — at the highest difficulty setting — for every two… ‘Clonnies’ you use.”

“One for every eight. Surely if they aren’t a threat you don’t need that many,” Connie mocks.

“Four, then” Pearl says.

“Deal. Steven, Amethyst, take note,” Connie says. “I wish to make twenty Clonnies. The means Pearl gets five Holopearls. Agreed?”

Steven and Amethyst nods.

“Next,” Pearl begins. “I stipulate that we shall not replenish our respective stock of helpers, should they become incapacitated. The only ones that matter are you and I. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Connie says. “But if the only ones that matter are you and I, then checkmate should apply to you and I. Poofing Clonnies and Holopearls is fair game, right?”

Pearl tilts her head. “How about checkmate applies to everyone, and poofing is fair game on everyone except you and I?”

Connie nods. “I agree to those terms.”

“You will be using that sabre, the one I gave you?” Pearl asks and points to it in Connie’s hand.

“Yes please. And, of course a duplicate of it for every Clonnie.”

“Of course. I will be using these rapiers,” Pearl says and gestures to a rack of swords nearby. “Does your Second wish to inspect them?”

Steven clears his throat. “Yes please.”

Pearl gestures towards the swords and takes a step aside. “Please, allow my Second to inspect your blade too.”

Connie hands Amethyst the sabre. She draws it and looks down the edge, before feeling it with a thumb. “It’s nice and sharp,” She says. “No tricks.”

Steven takes a little longer looking at all the rapiers. “They look very sword-like.”

“With those formalities out of the way, you two can let Garnet know we are ready to let the audience come forth to take their seats,” Pearl says.

Connie speaks up. “I’m thinking since I’m the challenger, I could warp in before the duel, and make an entrance to cement the nature of our conflict?”

“Sure,” Amethyst says. Pearl looks at her sternly. “What?” she protests. “It’s a cool idea! If we’re gonna have an audience, let’s cater to them, right?”

* * *

Steven and Connie climb the stairs to the vomitorium once more, leaving Pearl and Amethyst in the arena.

“She’s got guts, Connie,” Amethyst says.

“I agree — courage is a virtue in a fencer,” Pearl says. “I’m proud of her, in a way, for standing up to me.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Amethyst says. “What if — and like, that’s a pretty big ‘if’, I’m aware — but what if she wins?”

“That is highly unlikely. But if she does… I really don’t know.”

Amethyst shrugs. “If Garnet agrees, we could make her a member of the Crystal Gems.”

“But— she’s not a Gem,” Pearl protests.

“ _Honorary_ member, then.”

Pearl chuckles.

“It’s good to see you happy again, Pearl,” Amethyst says and puts a hand around Pearl’s waist.

Pearl ruffles Amethyst’s hair affectionately in return.

* * *

Back at the beach house Garnet finally rouses. She’s uneasy about the whole deal — not so much because it bothers her. Which it does — Connie shouldn’t fight Pearl no matter how competent they both are. But what bothers Garnet the most is that it is hazy; the outcomes are occluded.

That usually means she has missed something — a fact, a false assumption, or something to that end.

“Hello everyone, I’m glad you could come,” She says to the assembled groups of people. “If you will all follow me inside the beach house, we will Warp to the arena.”


	37. In the Red Corner...

“Ladies, Gems and Gentlemen,” Amethyst calls out over the assembled dozen-odd people now seated on the steps of the amphitheatre, now equipped with drinks and popcorn.

(For those keeping count at home: Steven, Garnet, Greg, Dr. Maheswaran, Mr. Maheswaran, Vidalia, Onion, Sour Cream, Buck, Jenny, Nanafua, Ronaldo, and Peedee.)

Amethyst has assumed a costume of a jacket, pinstriped pants and a straw hat, complemented by a cane. “I am soo~ glad you could join us today for this amazing honor duel!”

A mutter passes through the crowd.

* * *

“Isn’t that a ‘to-the-death’ kind of thing?” Vidalia asks Greg.

“I think they’re going to tell us what the rules are,” he replies.

Onion is as spellbound by the show Amethyst is putting on.

* * *

“Don’t worry, our two contestants are mentor and pupil and would never aim to hurt each other. This will be a duel to surrender, disarmament, or capture. Or as our lovely resident swordsmaster deems it, ‘checkmate’.

“Yeah, isn’t that clever.

“In the defending corner today is our very own, lovely, long-limbed, elegant as a ballerina, deadly as a viper, _Pearl of the Crystal Gems!_ ”

* * *

“Go Pearl!” Nanafua yells.

“Grandma! We’re rooting for Connie — she’s the underdog remember?” Jenny says.

“But Pearl is so elegant. You don’t get to decide who your nana cheers for.”

* * *

She gestures exorbitantly towards Pearl, who takes a flowing and deep bow towards the audience. They applaud suitably — most of them know Pearl at least a little. To some it is a surprise to see her here with a sword in hand.

“In the challenging corner is the sword swinging prodigy, the girl that could, as brilliant as she is adorable, a fiery inspiration to us all, _Connie Maheswaran!_ ”

The telltale blue skyward beam of the Warp pad, lights up.

When no Connie appears through the entrance, Amethyst chuckles and adds: “… Though it might take her a second.”

“I’m still not sure about this,” Priyanka mutters to her husband.

Doug puts and arm around her. “All three of Steven’s aunts are here, you’ve brought the first aid kit, and Steven has — healing spit? It’ll be fine.”

* * *

Connie has just arrived, but unbeknowst to the audience, she is far from alone. In one hand she holds the duplicator wand, a warp whistle and a permanent marker, in the other sashes in black, gold and red, and five spare circlets. Missing a third arm, she holds the sabre under one arm.

Working quickly she takes off the circlet, dons the black sash, holds the sabre tight, and takes a duplicate of herself. With a flick of the wrist she creates a Clonnie and hands her the marker. The second one gets a letter and starts untying Connie’s sash. A third one starts untying her own sash, the fourth one too…

After many, many Clonnies, Connie starts duplicating circlets and sashes…

* * *

She comes into the arena proper, thirty seconds after arriving by warp.

In her Kalaripayattu uniform, barefoot with the sabre at her side; with her hair in a tight braid, crowned by the narrow golden circlet.

She walks down the steps from the vomitorium, dignified, determined, with a cocky smile on her lips.

She reaches the floor of the arena, and stops. “Pearl,” she says. “Yesterday when I offended your honor, I told you I would meet you in the ring, and I promised you that you would face an army.”

She gestures confidently.

“Well, here I am. And as promised, I bring an Army of Me.”

And on that cue, two files of Clonnies — ten in each — in perfect lockstep, trot in through the vomitorium and descend the steps to the arena floor. Each of them only distinguishable from Connie Prime, by the sash, and a letter on their forehead: every consonant in the latin alphabet. Five of them are in golden yellow sashes, the rest in black.

They split when they reach the floor and take positions in two formations of five files by two ranks at either side of Connie.

“These are magical duplicates of myself, as completely aware and alert as I am,” Connie explains.

Twenty voices sing out in synchrony. “ _We are smoke and mirrors. We are expendable. We are temporary. We are magical facsimile. It is below us to deceive ourselves that we are not._ ”

* * *

“What on earth are these things?” Priyanka finally manages to stammer.

“It’s all right, Dr. Maheswaran,” Steven says from a few seats over. “They are kind of like holograms, but with mass. You make them with a little wand device, which can duplicate _anything_.”

“But—”

“And Garnet can see the future,” he adds.

“The wand itself is completely benign, Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran. I can personally guarantee it,” Garnet says.

* * *

Connie smiles and continues: “My offense to you was to claim in hubris that you could best this army, and in my grace I have allowed you five of your training holograms to assist you.”

Pearl rolls her eyes. “Dearest pupil, there is much you still need to learn. My offense was not to be called hubristic, but that you disregarded my superior experience in such matters.”

Pearl’s gem glows brightly and five holopearls materialize, unarmed. As one they turn and stride past the sword stand, arming themselves.

The Clonnies similarly all draw their sabres and place their scabbards neatly along the unoccupied lowest step of seating. One even dutifully kneels in front of Connie, and accepts her scabbard, placing it on the step above the rest.

* * *

“This is some freaky stuff,” Sour Cream says.

“It is going to be _so_ awesome,” Buck says.

“Totally.”

* * *

“Now, Pearl,” Amethyst says. “Do you promise on your honor to uphold the rules of this duel?”

“I _do_ ,” Pearl says, taking a combat stance.

“Master level duelist mode _engaged_ ,” the holopears sing in unison monotone, mirroring the stance.

“Connie,” Amethyst says. ’Do you promise on your honor to uphold the rules of this duel?"

Connie twirls her sabre, then takes a stance. “ _I_ do.”

“ _So do we,_ ” the Clonnies say in unison and split into formations of four, a gold sash to three black sashes.

“With that said,” Amethyst says. “I hereby declare this duel _begun!_ ”


	38. Army of Me

The five Holopearls immediately spread out, and Pearl starts moving forward in a straight walk — not even taking a stance.

“You know what I know,” Connie says in a conversational tone.

One thing Connie has spent her afternoon doing is researching squad tactics and strategy. When you are alone such things matters less, but as soon as there is more than three combatants to a side, things like flanking become game changers.

Another thing she has spent her afternoon on, is falling over herself when trying these things out. A lot.

Connie and the Clonnie squad Z, T, V, and W — Z in a gold sash — converge on the advancing Pearl. They attack from two sides, and Pearl dodges Z and T attacking in unison, while parrying Connie’s attack.

As soon as the sound of metal ring out, the remaining four squads run for the broken edge of the arena. Three of the Holopearls pursue, while the other two move to assist Pearl. Immediately Connie turns and charges the pursuing Holopearls; the squads they pursue immediately turn on their heels and charge…

* * *

“Checkmate,” Pearl says with her blade to W’s throat. A sabre hits the arena floor and W immediately sits down, taking her circlet off.

* * *

Into a pincer attack on the three Holopearls, causing them to split up, moving out of the way of the charge. As Connie and the four squads come together between the three holograms, X, G, H, and J — X in a gold sash — continues in a dead sprint to Z’s aid.

Connie immediately goes for the lone Holopearl while the twelve others gang up on the duo. Connie opens the exchange with an overhead death strike — a running jump leading into an heavy strike.

(Don’t try that at home, it’s full of openings and only works when your magical, oracular head-wear informs you it’s a good idea.)

The hologram thrusts out as Connie leaves the ground aiming for a marking near the throat — clear checkmate — but with one fluid motion Connie deftly…

* * *

Twelve versus two sounds like a good idea in theory. Connie thinks this, and so gold-sashes Q, C and P thought this up until the duo of Holopearls rapidly checkmated Q’s entire squad.

“I’m getting between them,” Q says. K, L and S sitting down nearby without circlets look up. With a lunge and an almost impossible twist…

* * *

Amethyst looks over at Garnet. “How come Pearl isn’t poofing any of the Clonnies?”

“Poofing?” Dr. Maheswaran mutters. Most of the audience turn their attention — or at least an ear — to the Gems.

“It’s a deliberate strategy. Checkmating is a far milder event than poofing, so Connie can’t foresee it,” Garnet says.

“Foresee it?” Vidalia asks.

Garnet nods. “The golden circlets are ‘circlets of music’, but Pearl is considering renaming them ‘oracular circlets’. They provide a channel of feedback similar to what we Gems possess naturally. It’s about to get interesting by the way…”

* * *

Facing off against Pearl and two Holograms, Z and X are hard pressed. Already, T, V, and H are sitting down nearby; and Pearl is pushing them back towards the steps of the amphitheater.

Pearl dodges a swing and stabs her blade between G’s legs, a single inch from the crotch of her pants. “Checkmate,” she quips, and G drops her sabre.

“I’m not going to say I told you so, but…” Pearl says mockingly.

The two Holopearls lunge at the tight formation of the remaining Clonnies.

* * *

Connie deftly brushes the blade aside and raises for the sword fighting equivalent of a haymaker. Her opponent parries badly and Connie lands directly into a sweeping kick. The hologram jumps, and Connie thrusts into an awkward airborne parry on the part of the Holopearl.

She kicks it, and the holographic medium of the training doll flickers.

* * *

“Go Connie!” Steven hollers.

* * *

Q, lunging and twisting, parries the blow from one Holopearl, while C covers her back from the other’s thrust. Then D simply flings herself bodily at the one distracted by Q’s maneuver, aided by a leg up from B and F. Strictly obeying the no-poofs strategy, Holopearl’s sword doesn’t intercept D in mid air and it is rewarded with ninety pounds of Clonnie.

The two fall to the floor and Holopearl manages to get it’s rapier at D’s throat. “Checkmate—” it buzzes; and then cuts into a shrill whilne as Q’s blade plunges into it’s forehead.

“I can’t believe that worked,” B says, then turns to shout. “They’re going for checkmates only! Go crazy!”

* * *

Connie has fought Holopearls a lot over the summer, but it seems Pearl has innovated. Despite the wound she has inflicted it, it fights her to a standstill, adapting to her strategies… Did Pearl specifically program it with counters to her fighting style?

Behind her, a Clonnie shouts to the others, and the Holopearl uses her momentary distraction to lunge. She parries, and counters. Their blades clash and lock, and the Hologram uses its uncharacteristic strength to push Connie back.

Then footsteps sound behind Connie, and the Holopearl breaks the engagement. F and M simultaneously tackle it, and F is immediately checkmated before Q bisects Holopearl from crown to solar plexus.

Behind them, the remaining Holopearl leaps away from the team of Clonnies attempting to tackle it like they did it’s partner, and runs for Pearl.

Connie shares a brief look with Q, and they sprint for Pearl too.

* * *

“This is intense,” Buck says, struggling to record it with his phone.

“You should have brought a proper camera, Buck,” Ronaldo quips from above him, tapping the case of his small video camera, sitting on a tripod.

* * *

Z is now alone against Pearl and two Holopearls, flanked but at least not with her back to the wall. X saw to getting her out of the cornered situation, and earned a checkmate for it.

However, she is hopelessly outflanked and the others will soon have to deal with Pearl herself, is she doesn’t get help.

Then the whirring footsteps of another Holopearl draws near; accompanied by a pitter-patter of bare feet on stone. Pearl gestures and the two Holopearls break off, heading towards the new threat.

“You are unusually good at this— how is that possible?”

Pearl lunges and Z dodges to one side. From behind her another two Clonnies appear and take on Pearl. Z moves to flank, but Pearl moves out of the disadvantageous position before it even arises.

Then Connie joins in, going straight for Pearl.

“Did you mastermind this?” Pearl asks, dodging Connies attack. P and N keep her on her toes, running behind her. She leaps over them.

“Why would I? They’re me. Anything I can think of, they can think of, remember?”

Connie moves next to Z, and they charge Pearl.

At this point, Connie and Clonnies alike are feeling exhaustion creep in — from here on out it will get harder. They will be running on adrenalin and determination, steadily getting more tired.

 _We need to end this fast,_ is the thought shared by almost every Clonnie still standing.

* * *

Without P nearby, M and R are nearly useless — their circlets relay what P needs to hear, and so they hang back while C, and Q try to shoulder three Holopearls long enough for Connie, Z, P and N to finish the fight.

For the fifth time, a Holopearl tries to get past the two, and this time C’s area denial falters. It moves in a dead sprint past her defences towards the vulnerable black-sashes.

The pair move away from one another and, intent on making it count, they counter-charge.

The Holopearl denies them the opportionity by leaping into the air, sailing over M’s head. R turns on a dime, painfully straining her ankle; she shoulder-clips M out of the way of the oncoming marking thrust towards her squad mate’s shoulder blades—

The difference in momentum and height between the two bodies makes the difference.

R gasps for breath as the length of cold steel plunges into her ribcage from behind. The sound is worse than anything she has ever heard. The pain is unimaginable, and a freezing chill passes through her. A wet spot starts to form on either side of her uniform.

She coughs and tastes copper. “Ow…” she croaks.


	39. Whoopsie Daisy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: death, blood, physical harm.

“Oh no,” Garnet hisses.

* * *

Steven covers his eyes, wincing.

* * *

“No…” Priyanka whispers.

Doug almost jumps to his feet to run into the arena, and is stopped by Garnet’s firm hand on his shoulder.

“The duel is still in effect,” Garnet says.

* * *

Ronaldo swivels the camera to catch it. “That’s… Horrible.”

“That’s gotta hurt,” Buck mutters, clutching his chest.

* * *

The violins in Connie’s ears play a scare chord.

Only Amethyst and Garnet of those present, has ever seen Pearl move that quickly.

Connie spins on one foot, snapping her head to track her and still the Gem passes outside of her field of vision for a split second. Said split second is all it takes for Pearl to decapitate the hologram; she yells a command word that slips between the fingers of Connie’s mind like sand. Impossible to accurately hear, remember, or pronounce. The Holograms stop dead. Frozen. One in midair.

Connie, Z, P, and N don’t even look at each other before dashing off. The checkmated Clonnies littering the battlefield raise their heads to look. Some inch closer.

Pearl is cradling R, with the rapier point protruding from near her solar plexus. A steady flow of blood runs from the wounds, dampening the black fabric, getting smeared across Pearl’s shorts and thighs. M is kneeling beside them, holding R’s hand.

Connie kneels down beside her. Only a few moments have elapsed, but each second seem to stretch out far longer than it has any right to. A trickle of blood runs from R’s mouth. She coughs.

“Why isn’t she poofing?” Connie whispers. Then in an accusatory scream directed at Pearl, she repeats: “ _Why isn’t she poofing?!_ ”

“… They can’t,” Pearl says. “I should have foreseen this. A duplicated plate doesn’t disappear when it breaks in half.”

Tears gather in Connie’s eyes.

“Checkmate.”

Pearl glances aside, to the tip of a saber held to her neck. Then up at Z, holding it.

“We win,” Z says and drops the blade to the ground.

Connie glares at Z. “ _What was that for?_ ” She hisses.

Z crosses her arms, and looks around at the other Clonnies nearby. All more or less mortified.

“We are _expendable,_ ” she says. The other Clonnies look at her.

“We are expendable,” P mutters.

Checkmated Clonnies around the arena, having heard the declaration of victory, are joining the crowd around them. Steven and the Maheswarans come running. Garnet and Amethyst both silently land nearby.

“ _We are expendable,_ ” they chant. “ _We are smoke and mirrors._ ”

R coughs again, and the crowd goes silent. “It’s… OK…” she whispers. “We… Won…”

“Her abdominal aorta has been perforated. She doesn’t have long,” Pearl says, holding a finger to the clones neck to check her pulse.

Priyanka falls to her knees, covering her mouth with both hands.

Connie pounds her fist on the stone floor. She rests it there for a beat before cradling it. “Dammit!” She hisses.

Steven steps forward. “I’ll save her,” he says.

A Clonnie puts a hand on his shoulder — K. “Don’t,” she says.

“You know what to do,” Z says, looking accusingly at Connie.

Slowly, Connie rises from her kneeling position. Without turning, she holds out her uninjured hand towards Steven. “Wand.”

“But—” he protests.

“ _Wand!_ ” She yells.

Startled, Steven pulls it out of his back pocket and hands it to her. She points it at R.

R’s head lolls over, and she looks at Connie with pleading eyes.

The wispy light of the wand’s beam flashes out and R disappears with a soft _pop_. The blood disappears, the circlet — though separately duplicated — similarly vanishes. The saber, still clutched in R’s hand is also enveloped and disappears.

The only traces left are stains of blood on Pearl’s clothes, on the arena floor, and on the rapier.

Then Connie begins unmaking every Clonnie in the crowd, before coming around to Z.

They stare down each other, Connie with her face contorted in tearful rage, and Z filled with cold anger.

“I’m right,” Z says.

“ _I know!_ That’s what I _hate!_ ” Connie hisses.

“I’m still _ri—_ ”

Connie swings the wand, unmaking Z before she can finish.

She turns to the remaining crowd of duplicates.

“Wait— Um,” one says.

“What?” Connie snaps.

The speaker steps forward. It’s M. “I, uh… Could you let me stay behind?”

“ _Why?_ ” Connie hisses.

“Well, I was right beside R when she…”’

Connie doesn’t answer, and just goes on to unmake the rest, leaving M behind. Then Connie tosses the wand to Steven, who catches it, almost fumbling.

With quick strides she walks directly over to Priyanka. They embrace, and Doug kneels down to join them.

M quietly steps over next to Pearl, who sits with the bloody rapier in her hands, and puts a hand on her shoulder.

“Well… _That_ just happened,” Amethyst says.


	40. When Victory Feels Like Defeat

It takes almost fifteen minutes before the chaos dies down. Garnet herds everyone back to their seats — most of them having come into the arena to gawk at the spectacle, Ronaldo to poke the frozen Holopearls — and Pearl takes the stage in front of them.

She stands there in front of shocked citizens of Beach City, Connie’s parents, Steven, and Connie. Garnet, Amethyst and M stand with her off to the side for moral support. For almost a minute she does nothing but pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Pearl finally says with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. “What happened, was that I made an error in my planning of this duel. The clones created by the duplicator wand don’t ‘poof’, which I should have foreseen.

“We Gems, if our bodies are badly damaged, will ‘poof’ and retreat into our gems” she gestures to the ovoid on her forehead “— which is the center of our consciousness and the whole our being — to subsequently create a new body.

“This is possible because our physical forms are illusory, magical constructs.

“The duplicator wand makes it’s duplicates in a manner similar to this, but much more closely mimics how physical objects work. Ordinarily the only way to be rid of them is to use the wand to unmake them as you have seen.

“And I mistakenly expected that if a clone got badly enough hurt, it would ‘poof’. But instead, as you saw…”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath.

“Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran, you should be advised that for the majority of the lessons I have given your daughter, such risks have been entirely avoided: I have personally been at hand to prevent my training holograms from hurting her. This was a tragic and rare accident, not a picture of how I usually handle my pupils.

“Recently I was the victim of a training accident which put me out of commission for two weeks, and and immediated afterwards set out implemented a number of safety measures in my training holograms. I now see I should have been much more pessimistic in that regard.

“Once again, I apologize to all of you; and I declare Connie the victor of this duel.”

“What?” Connie exclaims and stands up.

“The Clonnie known as ‘Z’ managed to checkmate me. I was distracted; a mistake on my part which she exploited accordingly. Completely fair play.”

“But—” Connie protests.

“For the record, that was really sloppy work on Pearls part,” Amethyst says.

“I didn’t want to win like this…” Connie says.

The ensuing silence isn’t filled with murmurs. There are too few people around for that.

“All right, everyone,” Garnet says. “I’ll be taking you back to Beach City. Thank you so much for coming to see this duel.”

* * *

Buck catches up with Steven as they walk across the arena to the vomitorium. “That was intense. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I think,” Steven replies.

“She’s your best friend, must be rough.”

“I’ve seen worse… I think.”

Buck adjusts his glasses. “… Wow, OK. Just— take care, OK?”

Steven nods.

* * *

M walks by herself, tentatively casting a glance at Connie, being carried by their father.

“Hey, um.”

She turns. It’s Ronaldo, with his camera tripod under one arm, and the video camera in the other.

“What?” She says.

“I was thinking, if maybe you and Connie wanted to give me… An interview? It doesn’t have to be now or anything…”

M mulls it over. “I’m only going to last an hour or two before disappearing.”

“Aw crud. I had hoped I could… Never mind,” Ronaldo says and slumps. “The footage from the duel will have to do.”

M mulls on it for a few seconds while they walk. “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll ask Connie.”

Ronaldo straightens up at the suggestion. “Oh, that’d be great. Thank you _so_ much.”

* * *

“Hey, are you OK?” Amethyst asks Pearl.

“No,” Pearl replies courtly. “It’s been a long while since I saw a dying human. I had forgotten how… Brutal the death struggle is.”

She looks down herself, at the blood smears on her shorts and legs.

“You’re afraid Steven or Connie might get hurt for real, one day,” Amethyst states.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Me too.”

* * *

“Fry son, you seem troubled,” Garnet says to Peedee.

He looks up at Garnet having fallen into step beside him, then down again. “I’ve never seen anyone die before.”

“Remember: it was just a Clone,” Garnet says.

Peedee nods at the empty reassurance. A mortal injury is a mortal injury.

* * *

Doug carries his daughter, clinging to him as if her life depended on it. It was easier when she was six, but it is the virtue of a father to be dependable.

“I think we need to have a serious conversation with the Universe family,” he whispers to his wife.

She nods, still looking pale from the shock.

* * *

“Cheese on bread! That was quite a train-wreck.” Nanafua says, catching up to Greg.

“Hoo-boy. Yeah. It was really something.”

“She is such a nice girl. So brave. Friend of Steven, yes?”

Greg nods.

“Lucky boy.”

* * *

They reach the pad, and the Gems warp them back in groups of six.


	41. Just The Facts, Please

After the last of the uninvolved residents of beach city say their modest goodbyes in the awkward atmosphere, only the Gems, the Universes, and the Maheswarans remain in the beach house.

Pearl excuses herself and goes elsewhere to renew her outfit; Garnet silently brews tea; M stands around uncertainly next to Amethyst, suffering under the uncertain glances of Connie’s— _her_ parents; Steven sits beside Connie on the sofa, holding her hand. Greg has slumped on a bar stool.

Garnet distributes mugs of tea, Pearl returns.

“We’re not comfortable with this level of violence in Connie’s fencing lessons,” Priyanka says eventually. “We’re not comfortable with a lot of things going on here.”

“Dr. Maheswaran; again, I apologize for the accident but I can assure you I will do my utmost to prevent such a risky situation from ever arising again,” Pearl says.

“What qualifications do you have, to be saying that, exactly?” Doug says.

“Well, I don’t like to brag, but I had a hand or two in the formulation of fencing as an athletic discipline,” Pearl says.

“That’s— how old are you supposed to be?” Priyanka objects after a brief deduction.

Pearl briefly glances at Steven. “Two hundred and eighty seven.”

“Years?” Doug asks.

“Centuries.”

Priyanka and Doug glance at each other. “What?”

“Barring the destruction of our Gems,” Garnet says indicating with an open palm, “we are immortal. Pearl and myself came here fifteen thousand years ago with the initial colonization of Earth by Gemkind. Amethyst was created here on earth some six thousand years ago.”

The couple stare at Garnet in stunned silence. “… Steven said something about some wars?” Doug says.

“We fought two wars for Earth. The most recent one was a bit over seven thousand years ago,” Pearl says. “But that is not important right now. I can assure you that Connie herself was never in any danger.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Doug objects.

“Permit me to explain:” Pearl says in a sharp tone. “First, I spent more hours engaged in martial combat than it takes to acquire a medical doctorate. My credentials as a sword fighting and fencing instructor are unimpeachable.

“Second, I was for the duration of the combat keeping my attention focused on Connie, to protect her from harm. Both of you witnessed the speed with which I assisted the injured clone; and I will let that speak for itself.

“Third, wearing the circlet and directly engaged in combat with me, Connie is second-for-second safer than she would be lying in bed in her room without the circlet.”

Priyanka is the first one to recover from the verbal onslaught. “Why is that piece of jewelery important? I know she is fond of it, but…”

“The oracular circlets was one of Rose Quartz’s side projects,” Garnet says. “They give human wearers a limited version of the same kind of retro-causal intuition that Gems have innately.”

“… What does that mean?” Doug asks.

Garnet looks at M. “Clonnie, could you go back to the Arena and fetch a genuine circlet to demonstrate?”

“Yes, Garnet,” M says and heads for the Warp pad.

“I’ll warp you,” Amethyst says and follows.

The beach house fills briefly with blue light.

Garnet turns back to the Maheswarans. “Without the Circlet, Connie — and thus Clonnie — is an ordinary thirteen-year-old human girl in good physical shape and with a prodigious talent for sword fighting.”

The warp pad activates once more, and Amethyst and Clonnie steps off it.

“Clonnie,” Garnet says. “Please demonstrate your acrobatic abilities.”

From the foot of the warp-pad, M does a handspring off the raised platform, landing and continuing into a front-flip. She lands with the perfect form of a trained gymnast.

“Close your eyes,” Garnet says. M obliges.

Garnet picks up two empty mugs from the counter and tosses both at her. “Think fast.”

M catches both, one in each hand, simultaneously, flawlessly, and with her eyes closed.

“This is a limited imitation of the innate abilities of Gemkind,” Garnet says. “Quite simply, Connie is safer wearing that circlet than any other single factor the two of you could provide.”

Priyanka shakes her head. “May I ask you three… Gems… A question?”

Pearl looks at Garnet, then at Amethyst. “Yes..?”

“Just how many life-altering magical devices do you have lying around which we should know about?”

Pearl looks confused at Garnet. Garnet shrugs. “What do you mean?” She asks.

“First the healing water, now this circlet… Not to mention this duplication business—”

“And the teleportation device,” Doug adds.

“— And the teleportation. For all your guarantees of safety, there have been no studies of the long term—”

“How do you know about the healing water?” Pearl asks.

“Oh no,” Steven, Connie and Clonnie says collectively.

Greg looks up from his cup, at Steven and Connie. “… I think I know how.”

Pearl looks at Steven, quizzically. “Steven— Did you..?”

Priyanka clears her throat. “A few months ago he and Connie came to me with a few mason jars full of an unidentified clear liquid which supposedly has healing properties—”

“ _You did what?_ ” Amethyst gasps.

Garnet rubs her eyes under he glasses.

Pearl’s surprised expression makes way for one of anger and disappointment. “Steven you’re grounded.”

Priyanka clears her throat louder. “ _As I was saying_ … I haven’t had a lot of time to study it; but as far as I can discern it _works as advertised_. If indeed it proves benign in the long-term, _do you have any idea of how much it will revolutionize modern medicine?_ ”

“Yes,” Pearl yells. “It will have absolutely no impact, because you will discontinue your scientific inquiry into the nature of our healing lachrymal essence _this instant._ Besides, it’s not even supposed to have any effect on mammalian tissues!”

Priyanka takes a step forward and raises her voice to match. “Oh, it does. It works splendidly. Do you have any idea how many people this could help? One hundred and forty thousand human beings die. Every. Single. Day!”

“And don’t you think we have heard that line before?! ‘We can save so many!’ ‘It’s for the greater good!’ You know what happens _every. Single. Time?!_ You _humans_ use it for _war_ ,” Pearl shouts. Tears creep to her eyes. “ _Don’t you think we have seen enough of that, you selfish animal?!_ ”

Priyanka takes a step back. “Oh my stars. You have PTSD.”


	42. Humanity, Steven Universe, and Everything

The non sequitur outburst stops the fight dead.

Pearl wipes her eyes, still fuming. “I have _what?_ ”

Priyanka composes herself. “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. At least you’re showing signs… If I may— Do you have trouble sleeping?”

Pearl cocks her head. “Gems don’t sleep.”

“Yes we do,” Amethyst says. “As a recreational activity. Pearl rarely does it though.”

“Don’t indulge her, Amethyst,” Pearl says, then turns to Priyanka. “I can assure you I don’t suffer from some human disease. The idea is ridiculous.”

“So you have not experienced emotional trauma recently — War, abuse, loss of a loved one?”

Garnet speaks up. “Both of us have clear memories of the wars, yes. And Rose passed away when Steven was born. We were all deeply affected by her passing.”

“Yeah,” Greg says. “We still mourn her in our own ways.”

“They all loved my mom very much,” Steven says, gloomily. “It must be hard losing her after knowing her for so long, and then getting me instead.”

“Steven—” Amethyst says, reaching out towards him. “Look, Maheswaran lady, where are you going with this? I don’t appreciate you coming in here and riling us all up emotionally like that.”

Priyanka looks from Garnet — frowning — to Amethyst — angry — to Pearl — on the verge of tears — to Greg — gloomy and withdrawn — to Steven — mirroring his father.

“I don’t mean to intrude but you — all of you — ought to see therapists.”

Pearl snorts. “Again with the human doctors. We can handle ourselves, and even if we couldn’t, our well-being isn’t something a human doctor can—”

“Pearl,” Garnet interrupts. “She has a point.”

Pearl pauses and turns to look at Garnet.

“Pearl, a therapist is someone you talk to about feelings with, but who isn’t your friend, so they can be frank with you and give you an outside perspective,” Steven says.

“Well put, Steven,” Priyanka says.

“Are you serious, Garnet?” Pearl asks. “We’re going to take advice about our well-being from humans?”

And quite suddenly, Steven has had enough.

He stands up from the sofa, jumps onto the sofa table, and looks accusingly at the Gems. “This is awful. I hate it when everyone is like this. Pearl, you’re _wrong._ Garnet too, if you think we shouldn’t help out. I’m half human, and my best friend is a human being, and like it or not I am here to stay.

“You all pretend humans aren’t important, but you’re _wrong._ My mom knew that. She was probably sad too that humans have wars, but I think she would have come around. I don’t know a lot of things; I don’t know how much war there is, but maybe instead of _giving_ people stuff that they will then use for war, why didn’t you _stop_ them?

“Thousands of people die every day. You all know what it’s like to lose someone, and there’s thousands of living people out there who have lost someone. Maybe we can’t bring back the dead, maybe we can only save a few, but that is _worth it_.

“And you’re wrong about fusion too. Most of the problems — most of what has been so awful — is that you guys just don’t _understand what fusion is for._

“It’s not ‘serious magic,’ and it doesn’t mean you can just blindly trust your fusion partner, and because of you two” — he points at Pearl and Garnet — “being so _wrong_ about it; we nearly fell apart!

“If we’re going to be the Crystal Gems together, then we gotta do things: you have got to loosen up about fusion, because _everybody_ is bummed out about that, not just you three — Me too. Connie too.

“And we really need to help humanity, because it might not seem like it but _I’m part of it._ And if you don’t agree, then _I don’t want to be a Crystal Gem anymore._ ”

* * *

Stunned silence pervades the room for what feels like an eternity. Steven’s confidence almost starts to falter, standing there on the sofa table, before Amethyst breaks the silence.

“Wow,” She says.

Not quite enough to immediately shake anyone else out of it.

“I—” Pearl mutters ten seconds later.

Then Garnet strides over to the sofa table and swoops Steven into a hug. “You really do take after your mother,” she says quietly.

She stands back up, wiping away an unseen tear, and turns to Pearl. “Steven is right, Pearl.”

“Yes,” Pearl whispers.

“Maheswaran,” Garnet says. “You are absolutely right. We Crystal Gems have stood on the sidelines for millennia while humanity waxed and waned, washing our hands of any responsibility.”

Garnet then solemnly kneels before Priyanka, much to her surprise.

“As the de-facto leader of the Crystal Gems, I feel it is my responsibility to apologize to you, and to humanity, for our collective inaction. It was Rose who initially saw that human beings as intelligent beings, just like Gems, and who chose to go to war because of that. We — including Rose — have failed to uphold that ideal by withdrawing from humanity.”

Garnet stands. “Pearl, you must put the Maheswarans on the white-list, they deserve to be in the know.” She turns to Priyanka. “We will need guidance and knowledge, and to tread lightly if we are to begin to reveal ourselves to humanity. Especially since we may already have brought doom to your threshold.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Doug says.

“The forces of our home world is coming,” Pearl says. “We don’t know when. They already sent a party, and we fought them off. Next time, they might come in full force, and then there will be no possible way we can win.”

Doug and Priyanka Maheswaran are resourceful people, and it takes all of twenty seconds for them to process the implications.

“Tell us everything,” Doug says.

“We will,” Garnet says, “but you are going to want something stronger than tea.”

* * *

Suddenly the house is full of action.

Garnet starts brewing coffee, Pearl pens down a list of things and hands it to Amethyst who disappears into the temple. Pearl warps off to somewhere, and there is a slight lull in the action.

Clonnie approaches Connie, who has been sitting in the corner, silently observing the whole spectacle. “Hey, um.”

“What is it…” Connie mutters.

“Ronaldo kind of wanted an interview, I don’t know if we can get to that before I… Vanish, or whatever it is I’m going to do when my time runs out. Maybe we should go get some fresh air?”

Connie mulls it over, sullen, then rises from the sofa and trudges over to the kitchen where Garnet is waiting.

The temple door opens and Amethyst maneuvers a large round table through the door with relative ease.

“Garnet, you’re going to tell my parents about everything, right?”

Garnet nods.

“Could you start with the bits I’ve already heard—”

“I’ll ask your mother to call you when you should head back. Bring Steven.”


	43. Actual Fries, For Once

Amethyst brings chairs, bulletin boards, and a bottle of hard liquor.

“What’s that?” Doug asks, pointing at the bottle.

“Something a bit stronger than coffee,” Amethyst says. “It’s a 1964 vintage scotch. The distillery went bankrupt in the eighties, but it’s pretty good — not the best I have in stock by far, that would be some 1815 brandies — but I have a couple of dozen bottles.”

Doug just nods, dumbfounded.

“Mother, father,” Connie says. “I’m going to go get some air with Steven and Clonnie.” The three stand there, Steven beside Connie with tiredness painted in his face to rival hers. Connie and Clonnie both are out of the training uniform and into the same clothes, overalls and a red long-sleeved tee — newly duplicated for Clonnie.

Priyanka looks at M, who is almost hiding behind Connie.

M squirms a little. “Is— is something wrong?” She says.

“It’s strange… Like— Like you’re twins. I’m just trying to get used to it that’s all,” Priyanka says.

“Well, I won’t last very long,” M says. “Connie will probably make more at another time, but—”

“Are you all right?” Priyanka interrupts her.

M looks at Connie whose sullen frown has been replaced by tired acceptance; now peppered with concern.

M takes a deep breath. “No. Not really. I didn’t think I’d see you, mother. Father. I’m not afraid to go away — I’m just a clone — but… I’d like a hug.”

Priyanka leans forward in her seat and beckons M to her with a smile.

* * *

Connie, Clonnie and Steven walk down the beach in the twilight towards Fryman shop on the boardwalk, and Steven calls up Ronaldo.

“ _Hey, Steven! What can I do for you?_ ”

“Hi Ronaldo. We’re coming over for that interview. You couldn’t have some cola and warm fries ready when we get there?”

“ _I’ll see what I can do about that._ ”

Steven hangs up. They trudge on in silence, all exhausted from the ordeals of the day — emotionally for Steven, physically two for Connie and Clonnie.

Connie holds Clonnie by the hand — she has mostly gotten the permanent marker ‘M’ off her cheeks, and bears the genuine circlet. A promotion of sorts.

“What a day,” Steven says.

“Yeah,” Clonnie says

“I don’t like how we won. It feels wrong,” Connie says.

“A win is a win,” Steven says, and smiles.

“I feel it’s kind of my fault R had to die like that,” Clonnie says.

Connie stops and turns to her clone. “Hey… No, OK? It was an accident. Don’t blame yourself. It’s my fault for getting all riled up that— I literally put it in our mantra, right? Don’t feel bad for R. She wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Yeah,” Clonnie says and sniffles a little. “Yeah, she was expendable, and it— it was OK. If I was her, I wouldn’t want her to feel bad for me.”

* * *

They arrive at the Fryman shack, and find Ronaldo with the camera already mounted on a tripod next to a table — borrowed from Fish Stew Pizza’s patio — with three paper plates of fries, cups and a bottle of generic-brand cola.

“Hi Ronaldo,” Steven says.

“Hello you three,” he says. “You look tired.”

“It’s been a long day,” Clonnie says.

“And it’s about to get longer for me and Steven,” Connie says.

Ronaldo nods in understanding. “We’ll do this low-key-like. Got it.”

They sit, and Connie pulls out the wand to duplicate food for Clonnie.

“Wait up,” Ronaldo says and turns on the camera. “If you’re going to use that thing, I’d like it on video.”

He fiddles a little with it. “OK, go on.”

Connie duplicates fries and a cup of cola for Clonnie.

Ronaldo clears his throat, “OK, so— that was a demonstration of this ‘Duplicator Wand.’

“I have here with me Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran, and…”

“Clonnie. Short for Clone-Connie,” Clonnie says.

“Right. Cute. Anyway, in footage captured earlier today, you were fighting a duel with your fencing master, right?”

“Yeah,” Connie says, mixing ketchup and salad mayonnaise with a fry. “I had about twenty clones—”

“— Hence the letter ‘M’ on my cheek —” Clonnie interjects.

“And we fought a big battle — you got that on video, right?” Connie asks, biting down on a pair of fries.

“Yeah, we don’t need to talk about that if you don’t want to,” Ronaldo says. “Can I ask some questions?”

“Go ahead,” Clonnie says.

“How do you deal with the whole clone-original business?”

Connie chews and swallows. “I have a mantra. Pearl — my fencing teacher — taught me some… Principles, I guess; of how to think in order to sacrifice yourself for someone.

“It didn’t work out so well for me back then…”

Clonnie breaks in. “Speaking from experience, all it takes is to realize that I’m a clone and then know that it’s only Connie — the original — that matters. This duplication magic only lasts a few hours, so…”

Ronaldo nods sagely. “That’s sounds sad, but it’s good you’re OK with.”

“Yeah. We had a few bumps with the first Clonnies, but since Connie was there to see it, and I am Connie, I’m better for it too. And; well even if I go away, Connie’s still here to keep Steven happy.”

Steven smiles sheepishly.

Connie slings an arm around Clonnie in appreciation. “We live vicariously though each other,” Connie says.

“Man, this is so cool,” Ronaldo says. “I don’t think I have any more questions. Do you have anything you wanna talk about?”


	44. The Long Con

And so Steven, Connie and Clonnie small talk, eat fries, drink cola, fool around. Condiments get on Clonies shirt — because who cares, it’s a duplicated shirt.

Steven tells a joke, and they take silly pictures. Ronaldo talks a little about his project — it was really far too few questions; but he really didn’t pay attention in English class when they were taught about interviews.

Connie’s phone buzzes in her pocket.

“ _Connie, it’s me,_ ”

“Hello mother.”

“ _Garnet and Pearl has given us a very comprehensive history lesson, which I understand you have already heard. Now we’re moving on to other topics._ ”

“Yes, I understand. We’ll head back.”

Steven wipes his hands in a napkin, stands up and shakes Ronaldo’s hand. “Thanks for the fries, Ronaldo.”

“Thank you for the interview, Steven, Connie, Clonnie.”

Clonnie gives him a thumbs-up.

* * *

They walk back to the beach house is in much higher spirits than the walk away from there. On the slope Clonnie stops, smiling wide.

“I think this is it for me. Let’s end it on a high note,” she says.

Connie glances at Steven. “It was good having you with us,” Steven says.

“You fought bravely, and helped me come to terms with— well… I’m proud of you,” Connie says.

“Be proud of yourself,” Clonnie says and salutes.

Connie and Steven salute her back, and Connie waves the wand. The circlet hits the sand, and Connie ceremoniously picks it up. Then they head inside.

* * *

The beach house floor has been remodeled into an impromptu classroom at this point. There’s a blackboard, and bulletin boards, with a variety of colored notes and old documents on them. The table holds a bowl of chips, a pot of coffee and cups.

Greg is standing by the bulletins looking at photographs and woodcut prints of something. Doug and Priyanka are sitting by the table. Doug is swirling golden liquid around in a glass.

Pearl is standing by the blackboard which has a timeline drawn on it, looking very pleased with herself. Garnet is sitting down across from the Maheswarans.

“This is the best whiskey I have ever had,” he says.

“Only one glass, dear, you’re driving,” Priyanka says.

“Steven, Connie, you’re here,” Pearl says.

“There wasn’t graphical aides when you gave _us_ a history lesson,” Connie says with a crooked smile.

Garnet smiles. “You two are in a better mood. That’s good. Anyway, we’re moving on to the next part now: where Pearl just went.”

“Speaking of, where’s Amethyst?” Steven asks.

“Picking up at the sky arena,” Pearl says.

Steven and Connie take a seat.

“After the second war, we had a problem,” Garnet begins. “Since there was now only the four of us, we couldn’t protect humanity from the fallout from the wars. Dangerous artifacts were strewn about, abandoned sites full of traps, and the corrupted gems we had been dealing with since the first war — now in even greater numbers.

“Much of our old structures are built in inaccessible places to prevent humanity from accessing it, but already then we foresaw that humans would only get better at getting where we wouldn’t want them to be.

“In essence, Rose made a device which affects every human being on the planet, subtly leading them away from Gem artifacts, buildings, locations, and the like. It is not perfect, and it is not very powerful, but it has been running for five and a half thousand years.

“All of human culture has undercurrents of avoiding Gem magic. It made our job a lot easier.”

It takes a few seconds for the implications to sink in. “So, like, mind-control?” Connie asks.

“The effect on any one mind is minuscule,” Pearl says. “It can be measured on the scale of decades, if you know what to look for. As Garnet said; it is for manipulating the _culture_ of humans to avoid Gem magic.”

“And I suppose this device is the reason why Beach City isn’t the ‘Crackpot Capital’ of the United States?” Doug says.

Priyanka rubs her eyes. “OK,” she says. “A mass mind control device. Of course… How does it work? Chemicals in the ground water? Pollen? Infrasound?”

“Magnets,” Garnet says.

“Magnets?”

“It modulates the Earth’s magnetic field.”

Priyanka looks up at Garnet. Then to Pearl. Then back to Garnet. “… What?”

“Well,” Pearl says. “Planet Earth has a weak magnetic field created the motion of metal ions in the molten metal deep in it’s core. The core rotates faster than the rest of the planet, and a moving charge creates a magnetic field—”

“I know what the Earth’s magnetic field is, thank you, Pearl,” Priyanka says, hiding her face in her palms and sighs.

Doug snickers.

“What’s so funny?” Priyanka asks.

“It’s the communication barrier. It’s like talking to your father.”

“They really _are_ aliens,” Greg says.

Priyanka takes a deep breath. “I want to know a few simple things starting with: is it harmful?”

“Rose did some extensive research on life expectancy in humans before and after it’s activation — there was no significant change,” Pearl says.

“How?”

“She kept several dozen tribes under observation for a dozen centuries,” Pearl says.

Priyanka nods, and does the mental arithmetic. “Impressive, for a study. OK, second question: how does one ‘modulate’ the Earth’s magnetic field — mind I only have a high-school-level understanding of geology, but isn’t that a massive task?”

“Magic,” Garnet says. “Really big magic.”

“No, Seriously, how does it work?” Doug asks. “We’re both technically minded intelligent people. Try us.”

Garnet looks at Pearl. Pearl fidgets.

“Well, to be honest, I’m no expert,” Pearl says. “And I don’t even think that human theoretical physics is even at a point where it can be explained in terms of existing jargon.”

Pearl projects a holographic globe with the continents. Inside it a few dozen rings the size of Spain light up. “The simplest part of it a network of very large electro-magnets buried in the Earth’s mantle.”

Doug looks downwards, unnerved.

“Don’t worry. We have keyed you two into the system — that was where Pearl went earlier,” Garnet says. “It no longer affects you.”

“Who else is on that list?” Doug asks.

Garnet points. “Greg, Connie, a woman named Vidalia who lives here in Beach City, and a few national park Rangers around the world. Historically, a couple of US Presidents, Kings, Queens, a few diplomats, shamans, priests.”

“In total, no more than two hundred people have been on the white-list,” Pearl says.

It is a solemn silence that follows. Doug swirls his drink, Priyanka steeples her fingers, it is even news to Greg — but he is quite used to such secrets.

Connie breaks the silence. “That’s a pretty exclusive club.”

Steven snickers.


	45. Apocalypse Soon

“So we have a world-spanning mind-control device,” Steven says.

“It’s not a mind-control device, Steven,” Pearl says.

“Still. That’s kind of a super-villain thing, right?”

“It’s more like a veil of secrecy, Steven,” Connie says. “I once read a bit of this British fantasy series about a boy who goes to a witchcraft school — where the witches hide from the rest of humanity with magic. It’s never really explained why, though.”

“Hmm~,” Steven says. “That sounds less sinister. Was it any good?”

“It was a little strange to read a story set in Britain. And it’s nowhere near Unfamiliar Familiar.”

“OK. So… We have a magical secrecy machine who keeps magic secret,” Steven says. “That’s fair.”

Doug scratches his head. “Wait, if it uses magnetic waves — that’s like radio, right?”

“Yes,” Pearl says.

“So… Faraday cages block it?”

Pearl looks away for a second in thought. “Yes, I suppose.”

Doug leans back and chuckles.

“What’s so funny?” Priyanka asks him.

He snorts. “Tinfoil hats, dear. The crackpots have been right all along.”

* * *

Another pot of coffee, a toilet break and a breath of fresh air later, they are ready to continue.

“Right, that about covers the important history,” Pearl says. “Shall we move on to current events?”

Garnet nods.

The warp pad activates, revealing Amethyst with all the gear they left at the sky arena. “Hi guys,” she says.

“Amethyst, just in time,” Pearl says.

“Give me a minute, then I’ll join you,” she replies. The temple door opens to her room, and she picks up the generator like it was made of cardboard.

Pearl puts a news-paper cutout in a plastic pocket on the table. “Last year, we ran into a situation…”

Doug picks it up and he and Priyanka read it.

> _Ocean off the coast of Delmarva mysteriously disappears for a day._

The article itself is small — no head-line material, despite the event’s tumultuous nature.

“This wasn’t in the news,” Doug remarks. “Is that another effect of that secret-keeping device?”

Garnet nods. “Well, more like it’s primary effect. Gem related happenings are almost never front-page news.”

Pearl continues. “An artifact in our possession — a magical mirror — turned out to contain a fully conscious Gem. Steven released her out of sympathy, and she turned out to be hostile towards us.”

Pearl manifests a hologram image of Lapis.

“Her name is Lapis Lazuli, and she had been erroneously imprisoned for millennia. Her condition had simply elided our notice entirely.”

“That sounds horrible,” Priyanka says, covering her mouth.

“Yeah, it wasn’t a fun weekend,” Steven says. Connie puts a hand on his shoulder

Pearl nods solemnly. “She went into the ocean, intent on using it to create a space-elevator using her magical control over water.”

“Her gem was cracked,” Steven says. “I healed her, and she flew off into space. Back to Homeworld.”

Pearl nods.

Amethyst, having cleared the warp pad, comes in and takes a seat. “I wanna tell the next part,” she says and grabs a glass and the whiskey and pours herself a glass.

“A few months after the Lapis Lazuli event, we get a visit from these little robot balls,” she says. “They re-open the Galaxy Warp — the warp-network connection with Homeworld — and we get the first glimpse of the huge pile of trouble we’re in.”

The hologram of Lapis flickers into Peridot.

“This one,” Amethyst says. “Peridot. Some kind of technician or something. She takes one look around and spots the stickers Steven left on the broken warp pads, and leaves just as quickly as she came.

“Then not so long after that she sends some more robots, gets access to a control room, and we move in to stop her. In the process we make the super-duper-stupid mistake of actually revealing ourselves to her—”

Steven sinks in his seat.

“She was going to hurt Steven!” Pearl protests.

“Yeah, but still, that was what prompted them to come around in the first place,” Amethyst grumbles. “I was in on it at the time, remember?

“So this green idiot probably goes blabbing to her superiors, they probably ask Lapis some pointed questions, and put two and two together; because the next thing we hear is Lapis betraying them so send us a warning message.”

Pearl takes Steven’s laptop down from a shelf and turns it on. She navigates to Keep Beach City Weird, and finds the raw clips of the Handship.

It’s poorly captured, but conveys the point.

“They came for us. For Steven,” Garnet says. “They have weapons and tactics we’ve never seen before.

“Peridot, a single Gem warrior, and Lapis for prisoner. They took us out with terrifying ease and efficiency, imprisoned us. We narrowly made our escape thanks to Steven, and crashed their ship in the process, trapping them on Earth.”

Pearl helpfully depicts Jasper.

“Peridot is in the wind now,” Garnet says. “She’s causing all sorts of trouble, but most worryingly: she has managed to send a distress call Homeworld.”

Priyanka sits with steepled fingers and furrowed brow. “What happens next?”

Pearl sighs. “In the worst case, they are going to send an army, we are going to lose, humanity will be wiped out, and Earth rendered barren to create new Gems, as was the original plan.”

It takes a moment for the implications to register.

“So… The end of the world, in other words,” Doug says. “When is that going to happen?”

Pearl shrugs. “The distress signal is a powerful omnidirectional burst of radio-waves, spread across many frequencies. That means it is traveling outwards at the speed of light — which is rather slowly all things considered.

“It all depends on how close by the nearest Homeworld outpost or ship is to intercept it and transmit it in a faster-than-light fashion.”

“That’s pretty bleak,” Connie says.

“Yup. We’re Janked,” Garnet says.


	46. Giant Goddess

Silence descends over the table.

Doug stares into his drink, Priyanka into the table. Steven rests his chin on the table, and Connie leans back, arms crossed, frowning.

“You didn’t tell what happened to Lapis Lazuli in the end,” Greg remarks, trying to break up the awkward atmosphere.

“Right,” Pearl says. “When the space ship crashed on the beach, Steven used his bubble shield to make sure we four were unscathed. Lapis Lazuli and Jasper — the warrior Gem — survived the impact in bad shape.

“Jasper then coerced Lapis into fusing with her, creating the monster which calls itself Malachite. Lapis then double-crossed Jasper and used her water control to drag them into the ocean, where they reside to this day.

“Lapis is to our knowledge in control, but not for much longer. They might go insane or split up — in any case we might suddenly be looking at some really big problems in the near future.”

Priyanka rubs her eyes. “And to think I thought the stresses of being responsible for my patients’ health was a burden. Are there _any_ upsides?”

Garnet shrugs. “Peridot is slowly running out of options, getting more desperate, and every day Malachite stays fused is another day of mental strain on Jasper, making her less capable in combat.”

“ _If_ they end up unfusing,” Amethyst points out.

“Yeah.”

“What’s this whole fusion business?” Doug asks. “I understand it’s important from how adamant Steven was about it. Also it is magic, and has to do with this Jasper and Lapis Lazuli turning into a monstrous gestalt entity; could you elaborate?”

“Hoo boy,” Greg says.

* * *

“Oh no,” Connie mutters.

“It’s OK,” Steven whispers to her. “Secrets are bad, remember?”

* * *

“Fusion,” Garnet begins, “is a lot of things. At the most basic, it involves two Gems letting their bodies merge into an amalgam of their individual personalities, abilities, and forms.

“When willing partners fuse, it can be an amazing and intimate experience.”

“So… Intimacy, consent, merging of physical forms…” Priyanka says and jumps to the obvious conclusion: “So if I understand it right, is Fusion the Gem-equivalent of… Sex? The metaphor fits almost too well.”

There’s an awkward silence for a short moment. Doug looks amused from his wife, to the Gems. Greg chuckles — having made that exact assumption long ago. Pearl recoils in disgust and Connie’s eyes widen in horror.

“ _No!_ ” Pearl and _Connie_ both cry out in horror. Priyanka briefly glances at her daughter before Pearl continues: “Goodness no. Sex is rather… Messier… Than fusion. And also for procreation.” She shudders. “No; A fusion is the personification of a relationship.”

Garnet holds up both hands. “For instance, you might have noticed that Pearl and Amethyst has only one gem, while I have two, of different cuts even.”

“So… You’re a fusion?” Doug asks.

She nods. “I’m made of Sapphire —” she holds up one hand “— and Ruby —” then the other “— who won’t be joining us for a demonstration. I am their love for one another, and I have been this way for a _very_ long time.”

She turns to look at Pearl and Amethyst. A smile comes to her lips. “However, this would the perfect time to do as Steven suggested, Pearl, Amethyst…”

“What— you want us to fuse? Now? Here?” Amethyst asks.

“But— we can’t just… Or… Can we?” Pearl says and looks at Amethyst.

Amethyst gets out of her seat and stretches, looking back at her. “Are you up for it?”

Pearl breathes in sharply. “I’m not— Mr. Maheswaran, please understand that we quite recently had some… Disagreements involving fusion and some selfish and hurtful actions on my part— Garnet, I’m not so sure—”

She’s interrupted by Amethyst taking her hand. “Hey, Pearl… It’s all right. You gotta move past it, right? Get into the game again? I’m game… If you want… And, I can handle anything you could come up with.

“It’s not like I’m not used to feeling like trash, but— We can’t all feel like trash all the time, yeah?”

Pearl bends down and pulls Amethyst into a hug. “You’re _not_ trash. You’re _our_ Amethyst.” She pulls back. “Let’s fuse.”

* * *

The two clear the floor, moving the bulletin and blackboard out of the way, and take up positions. Garnet slides the laptop over and somehow, somewhere on the Internet, finds a stunningly appropriate piece of music — piano and drum beats.

“We synchronize…” Pearl says, and their gems start glowing, bathing the room in an interplay of purple and white light.

Amethyst slides a foot forward towards Pearl and drops into a low, wide squat, suggestively running a hand through her hair, looking askance at Pearl, smiling wolfishly.

Pearl spins three slow pirouettes towards Amethyst, each rotation turning her head to look Amethyst. She stops, back turned, and with a glance over her shoulder she mirrors Amethyst’s drop, slowly going down with a shoulder shimmy.

Amethyst blushes.

Priyanka leans over to Doug and whispers: “I’m still not entirely convinced this isn’t Gem sex.”

Amethyst counters the enticing display. She slides one leg towards Pearl, lifting herself into a wide stance, gyrates her hips, and slides her legs together. She leans forward, letting her hair fall in front of her face, before whipping it back and letting the motion flow into a body-wave.

Pearl blushes, and moves towards Amethyst in two twirling steps, extending a hand.

Amethyst closes the distance with three steps, swaying her hips with each step and running her hands through her hair.

She takes Pearl’s offered hand, and Pearl leads her into a spin. Amethyst lets go, sliding her hand up Pearl’s arm and down around her waist, then pulls her through two steps backwards. The height difference puts Pearl onto one knee, and she lets her other leg stretch out behind her.

Amethyst pulls her close, and they come to rest there with their gazes locked intensely for a moment. As if on cue they both lean in for a kiss, and dissolve into light.

Opal arises from the formless glow, resting on her knees with her pelvis thrust forward; one hand running through her hair, another caressing her cheek, one holding herself around the waist and the last resting on the back of her thigh — and her outfit has eschewed pastels for higher contrasts.

Doug leans over to Priyanka. “I’m not convinced either…” Priyanka hold up a hand, studying the fusion intently.

Opal opens her eyes slowly, dwelling in the afterglow. Then; suddenly she recalls where she is, and promptly sits down on her haunches folds her hands pairwise in her lap.

“Hello everyone,” she says in a deep, silky voice. “Steven, Connie, Garnet, Greg, Dr. and Mr. Universe. I’m Opal.”

“How do you feel?” Garnet asks.

Opal purrs and smiles. “Pretty good.”

“Wanna stick around for a bit?”

Opal nods.

“I’m sorry but I can’t help but notice…” Priyanka begins. “Does ‘Lakshmi’ mean anything to you?”

“Oh,” Opal says and chuckles warmly. “I haven’t been called that in a long while.”


	47. Innocence Changing Hands

It’s another stunned silence — casually admitting to being a deity inspires awe all on its own.

“We spent some time in southern Asia a few millennia ago, and… The myths stuck, I guess,” Opal says. “At least the many-armed beauties part.

“The temple around us, even, is a tribute to what we once were together when Rose Quartz was still with us.

“Garnet, it is such lovely sculpting. I know I always say that, but it bears repeating.”

Garnet smiles, and blushes slightly. “You flatter me. Besides it’s pretty broken up.”

“Oh, I can’t help admiring you, and you know very well why,” Opal says and plays with one of her braids. She gets off her haunches and onto all six, creeping towards Garnet in a sauntering gait. “Garnet — couldn’t you rebuild the temple one day? _For my sake?_ ” she purrs.

“Wow, uh… Do you two want to get a room or something?” Greg says.

Opal’s eyes abruptly go from ‘bedroom’ to wide surprise.

“That won’t be necessary,” Garnet says, grinning.

Opal pushes herself back up into sitting cross-legged, and brushes off her knees. “I’m sorry, everyone. I can get a bit carried away sometimes.”

“That’s why you need to practice being you,” Steven says.

“Wise words, my little man,” Opal says. “Well. Connie, Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran… I bet you’re dying to ask me — and Garnet — some questions.”

“Are you two… Romantically involved too?” Doug asks Opal.

Opal chuckles. “More than they like to admit individually. Yes. No. Maybe. It varies. I’m still grieving Rose’s passing, and that muddles things — Pearl lost the love of her life, and Amethyst lost a… Mother figure.”

“Wait— Didn’t Rose marry Greg?” Priyanka asks.

“Yes. And that was her prerogative in the end,” Opal says. “And even though we miss her; there are upsides.”

Opal shifts her posture and reaches across the table to ruffle Steven’s hair — once again highlighting the fact that she is ten feet tall.

“OK; Why are you so big? And how are you so comfortable with a completely different body plan?” Priyanka asks.

Opal stretches out her arms, two above her head, and one to either side, with the grace of a ballet dancer — nay, perhaps a deity. “I’m big, because Amethyst is very powerful; but lacks finesse, while Pearl has finesse to spare, but not much raw power — Garnet is small on purpose, in case you wonder. _Fun_ -sized, one could say.

“As for _these,_ ” she says and swirls her arms into a manji, “Dharma, kāma, artha, moksha, the answer is a little bit of magic, a little bit of precognition, a little bit of smoke and mirrors, and one huge helping of my personal charm.”

Priyanka grins and covers her mouth. “… If my mother saw this,” she says and snorts.

“I have a question,” Doug says. “You said your bodies are made of light, or some such; and we just saw that. Steven is flesh and blood, right? Does that mean he can’t fuse?”

“No, Steven can fuse. Has done so before.” Garnet says.

“With whom?”

“Your daughter.”

* * *

Dead silence descends over the table. Priyanka and Doug both stare wide-eyed at Steven and Connie, Steven squirms in his seat looking away and Connie seems to wish nothing more than to disappear entirely.

“Garnet, I don’t think you should have just blurted that out,” Opal says quietly.

“Oh boy,” Greg mutters.

“Right,” Priyanka says finally in a sarcastic drawl. “Of course. Yes! Why didn’t I think of that. My daughter is has a magical alien for a boyfriend. Doug, I need that whiskey, and I need it now.”

Doug doesn’t hesitate for a millisecond in acceding his wife’s demands.

Connie mutters something unintelligible.

“Speak up dear, your mother is having a nervous breakdown.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Connie says.

“He isn’t? And yet you’re off doing some alien-magic intimacy business which sounds awfully like sex — and who knows what the medical consequences—”

“Hey,” Garnet says. “You’re in the presence of not one, but two ‘alien-magic intimacy businesses.’ Think before you speak, Maheswaran.”

Opal puts a hand on Garnet’s shoulder.

“No,” Priyanka says.

“Dear, I think you should listen,” Doug says quietly.

“No, I think I have earned the right to a glass of whiskey, and to freak out here. I mean, I thought I could prepare Connie to make safe decisions about _sex_ , but this is just completely out of the left field,” she says and empties her glass in one swig.

“Who even knows what it _is?_ How does anybody know _anything_ about this half-alien kid and what your magic does to humans? It’s not like you’ve cared enough over the last fifteen thousand years to actually _help_ — that’s not to say I’m not really, really grateful you’re opening up about this.

“But for heaven’s sake, you’ve said it yourself. There’s never been anything like Steven, so _how do you know it’s even safe for_ either _of them?_ For all we know it could even get her _pregnant._ ”

“Now, now; be reasonable. She’s on the pill,” Doug says.

Priyanka looks at him. “Doug, you’re my dearest husband, but get this: _no one even knows!_

“Connie, you’re grounded, and I am taking you for an MRI, a CT, and an Echo at earliest opportunity. Full blood workup too. And you’re having a full checkup tomorrow.

“As for you, Universe boy. Don’t ever ‘fuse’ with my daughter agan.”

Then, the entire table snaps in half.


	48. Patience, Fury

The table itself is large — suitable for ten to twelve people (how it got through the temple door in the first place is quite literally a small wonder, there is after all numerous ways to do it with magic.) It is also made of mahogany, and two inches thick, with a supporting square frame of two-by-four beams underneath in a square shape.

The whole thing weighs so much the floorboards creaked when Amethyst set it down.

So you can imagine the utterly deafening noise it makes when snapped cleanly in half by a single strike — not to mention the damage to the floorboards.

Garnet shakes her hand, casually. Then picks a splinter of wood out of her hair.

She gets up and walks around the ruin of a table, until she stands, towering over a very, very dumbstruck Priyanka Maheswaran, standing, held by her husband who pulls her a step away from the furious Gem.

Then she takes off her shades.

“You don’t get to make that call,” Garnet says. Stating a _fact._

“I—” Priyanka stammers.

“No. You don’t. Because this is not your call to make,” Garnet says.

Priyanka looks around the room — Opal is coiled like a spring intensely focused on Garnet, Greg is hiding behind the kitchen counter, and Steven is holding Connie in a bridal carry, up on the ledge of the loft.

“You want guarantees of safety? —” Garnet tears off her visor, tossing it aside where it disintigrates “— _I can see the future._ I don’t know what Rose did to make Steven, but I do know she has a library of all the biological research she ever did, and it will take humanity another hundred years at your current rate of advancement to get anywhere near it.

“I’m no scientist, but I know that she went to lengths no one has gone to before; and she made a walking, living, wonderful miracle child who is both human and Gem, with the advantages of both, and the disadvantages of neither!

“That you even dare to imply Steven is imperfect is to tarnish the very legacy of Rose Quartz. Are you that hubristic, _human?_ Do you dare claim you know better than Rose Quartz? That you in your forty-four years have accumulated greater knowledge than she did in eighty thousand?

“To _us_ the difference in age between _you_ , and _her_ ” — Garnet points at Connie — “is negligible. Connie is bright — brilliant, even. She has hopes and dreams, and she wants to fight for Earth, and she loves Steven very much, and together they form the most wonderful fusion.

“And you. _Do. Not. Get. To. Take. That. Away._ Because _I fought two wars for my right to be a fusion on this Earth!_ And if Connie wants to fuse too, and if she wants to fight too, then I will _help_ her, because you can bet your _teeth_ that I see myself in those two, and I will stop at _nothing_ to make sure they get to do the same things as me.”

It is uncanny how Garnet hasn’t had to stop for breath once, but that is the least of anyones troubles. Mostly it is just tense silence, awaiting her next move.

“Garnet, get over here and sit down, _now,_ ” Opal says. “You’re scaring the humans.”

Garnet turns to glare at Opal.

“I mean it. Don’t make me force you.”

Garnet puts her shades back on and jumps across the entire table, landing with nary a sound. She grabs her chair, and twirls it around to have the backrest in front before sitting down.

The dead silence stretches out for seconds that feel like minutes.

“Man, look at the table,” Greg says, and laughs nervously. “Sure are some hot tempers here tonight.”

Priyanka and Doug are mostly just mortified. Steven sets Connie down gingerly.

Connie jumps down from the loft, and lands in the sofa. Tears of rage are gathering at the corners of her eyes as she walks with heavy steps around the table to where Garnet sits, glaring at her parents.

She steps in front of Garnet.

“How dare you take that tone of voice with my mother.”

Garnet looks at her. Whatever daggers she is staring at the girl are obscured.

Connie reaches out with one hand and grabs Garnet by the chin.

“I said: _how dare you take that tone of voice with my mother!_ ”

“Don’t speak to me like that,” Garnet growls.

“No! _You_ don’t get to speak to _us_ like that. Capisce? Maybe you don’t get this, so I’ll speak slowly: we humans _die_ when we are killed. We don’t poof, we don’t regenerate. And worst of all, we die _easily._

“And you know what? It’s _really obvious_ when I hang out with you, that you don’t have those worries!

“My _mom_ has spent her _entire life_ working to make sure that people _don’t_ die, if it can be helped at all. She reads about all the horrible things that can hurt you. All the subtle things. All the scary things.

“And it’s really not funny to do that, and she hates it, but _she has to._ Because _someone has to._ And just now, she said some scary things. And those scary things are _true._ Because she _doesn’t ever lie._

“So maybe she’s right. I sure hope she isn’t, because I really like Stevonnie. But until I know that she’s wrong, I’m gonna do as she says.

“And you know what you can do? You can _go to your room!_ ”

Connie points at the temple door for emphasis.

Garnet stands up, turns and strides over to the temple door. It opens to the basement chamber, and Garnet vanishes into the depths of the temple.

* * *

And that’s the scene. Steven having come down from the loft, solacing Connie who has taken Garnet’s chair. Priyanka and Doug are holding onto each other, scared out of their wits. Greg and Opal both have their faces buried in their hands.

Opal is the one to take the initiative. “Priyanka, Doug. I am so, so sorry you had to witness that. Garnet’s behavior was juvenile and inappropriate and I apologize.

“I can assure you, if she had made even the slightest move to hurt you, I would have neutralized her on the spot.

“Additionally, I liked that table, and I liked the peace that was before, and I think you had some really valid points, Priyanka. You should take your daughter home, and then I would advise you to take the day off tomorrow and come back here.”

“Wh— Why?” Doug asks.

“Because I know where Rose’s medical scanner is, I know of her biological library, and I know how to operate it; even if I don’t understand the details. I can give you at least part of the answers to the questions you have.

“Well, I ought to clarify— Pearl knows these things. So ask her if I am not around.”

Priyanka mutely nods. “Yeah… OK. That sounds reasonable.”

Opal continues. “Steven, it’s past your bedtime, so say goodbye to Connie. Greg, could you see to it that Steven gets to bed and is OK?”

Greg nods. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna go scold Garnet.”


	49. Bizarro

_What was all that?_

_She infuriates me._

_Obviously. And what, you decided not to be the bigger Gem?_

_You don’t understand what it’s like wh—_

Sharp sound. Pain.

 _You have_ no _idea what it’s like, and you have_ no _right to whine that an ignorant, well-meaning human’s comments pressed your buttons._

_Don’t you dare touch me again._

_Or what. We both know I am stronger than you. You act all high and mighty with your endless self-love, and your smug foreknowledge. You have_ no _idea what the rest of us struggle with, do you? Do you even remember what it’s like to_ hate yourself? _To feel alone?_

Hostility. Threat. Attack. Retaliation. Pain.

 _What, first the table, now me? I was forced to sit there, ready to_ hurt _you, while you went off the rails at that poor woman._

Anger.

 _And then_ Connie _puts you in your place and you don’t fight. Is it because she’s half of Stevonnie? Have you devolved to the point that a person’s only worth to you is their fusion? You disgust me tonight._

_Go away._

_No. I’m going to fix this, and you are not going to interfere. Here’s what’s going to happen…_

* * *

Steven wakes up from a strange dream, and for a moment feels well rested and serene. That feeling lasts as long as it takes him to look down into the living room, to see the ruins of the round table.

He checks his phone. One new message, received at midnight.

> 
>         Connie:
>     <3
>       

He sighs and lies back down. The morning sun is shining through the windows.

> 
>                 Steven:
>                  <3
>       

He gets out of bed and takes off his pajamas, before putting on yesterday’s clothes. It’s seldom that Steven is a morning grouch, but today he has earned it.

He stomps down the stairs and goes through the motions of breakfast — cereal with milk.

The temple door opens, and Opal steps out — much smaller than her regular form. “Hi Steven,” she says sweetly. “Did you sleep well?”

For a moment surprise pushes aside the bad mood, but then anger and disappointment reassert themselves. “Hi Opal. Yeah, I did.”

“That’s good,” she says and looks over the remnants of yesterday’s disaster. “Good grief. Good thing I have four hands,” she mutters, and grabs two bulletin boards, rolling them back to the temple door.

Steven eats breakfast, watching her work — picking up wooden fragments, examining the damage to the floorboards, unscrewing the table legs, and finally returning from Amethyst’s room with a small hatchet, to chop the shattered tabletop itself into manageable pieces.

“There’s one upside to this whole incident,” she says holding up a large piece with two hands.

Steven looks at her, frowning briefly before drinking the leftover milk from his bowl.

“Now we get to find out how mahogany smells when it burns,” she says and cleaves it.

The temple door opens — a single red line bisects it. Steven looks up from washing his bowl, and sees _Ruby._

She’s sullen-looking — clenched jaw, hands firmly stuffed in her pockets, and slouching. Briskly, she crosses the warp pad, and the floor of the beach house, making eye contact with neither Steven nor Opal.

Steven looks accusingly at Opal. “What did you do?”

Opal looks after Ruby as the smaller Gem slams the screen door. “Nothing, Steven. I didn’t hurt Garnet. It’s only until we solve this whole— You know…

I figured they needed time apart to appreciate that sometimes fusion isn’t the most important issue. That, and that Connie’s mom could use not seeing Garnet again."

The temple door opens again — a single blue line bisects it horizontally. Sapphire exits, hands clasped together, and crosses the distance to the door along the exact same path as Ruby.

“Don’t you two run off and—” Opal begins.

Sapphire stops just before reaching the door. The temperature in the room drops noticeably. She turns her head slightly towards Opal. “*Who do you think we are?!" she hisses, and pulls the door open, disappearing through it.

“This is awful,” Steven says.

Opal nods and sighs. “I hate it almost as much as they do.”

“Then why are you still fused?”

“Because Dr. Maheswaran is going to trust _me_ more than just _Pearl,_ oddly enough. Steven, we’re so sorry all of this happened, but we’re going to fix it, OK?”

“Yeah, you better.”

Opal cleaves another piece of wood.

* * *

Steven trudges outside when Opal begins tearing up the damaged floorboards to replace them — well, actually he leaves when she starts hammering the new ones in.

Ruby and Sapphire are nowhere in sight, and one might suspect to see patches of sand melted into glass, or a thin layer of rime where those two have passed, but there isn’t.

He finds Lion underneath the house deck, and sits down, leaning against the big pink creature.

Lion rouses a little and looks at Steven.

“At least you’re not part of this whole bizarro-world-thing.”

His phone chimes. It’s a text from Connie. _Thanks, Connie. You’re just what I need right now,_ he thinks.


	50. Adult Fears

> 
>                                 Connie:
>                                  <3
>     
>                            12:32 AM
>     ----
>     08:10 AM
>     
>     Steven:
>     <3
>     
>                            08:10 AM
>     ----
>     10:45 AM
>     
>                             Connie:
>                                 Hi.
>     
>     Steven:
>     hi
>     
>     Steven:
>     are you coming over today?
>     
>                             Connie:
>      I think so. My parents haven't
>         said a word all morning. We
>            really freaked them out.
>     
>     Steven:
>     yeah :( im sorry
>     
>                             Connie:
>        We're both to blame, really.
>                      I'm sorry too.
>     
>     Steven:
>     Garnet split up
>     
>                             Connie:
>                       What? Really?
>     
>     Steven:
>     yeah and now its like the whole
>     thing is from bizarro universe
>     because Opal is still fused
>     
>                             Connie:
>                                 O_o
>     
>     Steven:
>     yeah...
>     
>                             Connie:
>        I'm going to tell my parents
>      that Garnet isn't around, that
>                might help a little.
>       

Connie looks up from her phone, staring at the slanted ceiling of her room. She’s lying in her unmade bed, fully clothed (a big no-no on any other day.)

_This is my fault. I should have just told mother. But then— Then I would never have gotten to be friends with Steven._

_That would have been the actual worst. Oh Steven…_ She sighs and holds the little flip-phone to her chest in a brief moment of bliss.

She rolls over and pushes herself up to crawl out of bed, before using the reflection of her phone screen to check her hair, and adjust the circlet — even though it never needs adjusting.

(She was allowed to keep it after assuring her mother it worked through playing music, and also by threatening to throw a tantrum. Her father then reminded her mother to concentrate on driving, and that if Connie didn’t want her to remove it, she probably wouldn’t be able to.)

She exits her room, and trudges down the stairs, into the kitchen where her father is buried in his large work laptop. Her mother is outside on the back yard patio.

“Hi sweetheart,” he says absentmindedly.

“Hi father,” Connie replies.

“We’re going in an hour or so.”

“OK.”

She exits the kitchen into the back yard. “Mother, I just got a text from Steven. He says Garnet won’t be there.”

“Oh? Huh… That’s decent of them,” she says absentmindedly.

She’s holding a teacup with both hands, looking into the distance. The silence drags on until it becomes uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you going to ask me how I feel, if I’m in pain or feel nauseous or out of breath, or anything?” Connie asks.

“Are you?”

“No…”

Priyanka shrugs. “I’m your mother. And a doctor. I’d know if you were sick before you would.”

“Suit yourself, then,” Connie mutters, looking aat the ground.

Priyanka looks at Connie.

Connie winces slightly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Priyanka shakes her head and smiles slightly. “It’s fine. We’re all a little high-strung. Come here…” She says and puts her teacup on the patio table.

Connie obliges, and Priyanka pulls her into a hug. “We’re afraid, Connie. That’s something you should know. Your father and I, we’re adults and there aren’t many things that scare us.

“The things that are scary when you’re an adolescent, and the things that are scary when you’re an adult are very different. You’re afraid you’ll never get to see Steven again, right?”

Connie nervously nods.

“Don’t be, sweetheart. We’d never do something like that… But anyway, we are afraid too sometimes. Afraid that something might happen to you — or to each other.

“When your father got delayed at his old workplace, I always got a little bit scared that something had happened to him; that I was going to get a call from the hospital…

“Now there’s all this Gem business. Do you know what we’re most worried about?”

“Steven and me fusing?” Connie offers.

“I’m worried about that too, of course… But we’re actually mostly worried about the whole part about this ‘homeworld’ sending an invasion force. We’re worried about the war. That is what we’re afraid of.”

Connie nods, but doesn’t entirely understand.


	51. Anxiety and Exhaustion

It’s past noon when Steven is roused from playing a silly little adventure game on his phone, by Ruby and Sapphire appearing in the distance, walking down the beach hand in hand.

(It’s a game about a little girl with an alien pet and numerous father figures, based on a TV show or something. Steven dutifully saves his game twice before putting his phone away.)

He gets up and walks down the slope onto the beach proper, towards the couple. Sapphire waves at him in the distance.

The waves lazily crash against the beach, and a overland breeze blows in. Steven walks in the wet sand. It will soon be time for shoes, rather than sandals.

The two small gems walk in perfect lockstep, frowning, with their gem-hands hidden in pockets, holding hands tightly clasped.

“Good afternoon, Steven,” Sapphire says when he reaches them.

“Hi Sapphire, hi Ruby,” Steven says, stopping.

The two walk on at a slow pace, and Steven follows falling into step beside Ruby.

“Hello,” Ruby says.

“Are— Are you two all right?”

“No. But Opal is right,” Ruby says, grumbling. “We’re sorry, Steven.”

“What?”

“About the whole getting mad at Dr. Maheswaran thing. It was my fault,” Ruby continues.

“It was as much me as it was you, Ruby,” Sapphire says.

“No, I mean…” Steven begins. “What was this about Opal?”

“She’s very wise,” Sapphire says, “we came to an agreement that Dr. Maheswaran would prefer Garnet not being present.”

“And she likes Opal, too,” Ruby says. “So, here we are.”

Steven nods. “Why can’t you just be Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl? Why all this?”

“Because we messed up, Steven,” Ruby says. “We janked it, and you don’t deserve to have to solve the problems we create.”

“But— I don’t want this,” Steven says. “I don’t want you two to be apart; you look miserable.”

“Neither do we want this, Steven, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do, in order to do the right thing,” Sapphire says. “You won’t have to endure this much longer; the Maheswarans are going to pull into Beach City in ten minutes.”

Steven nods, frowning.

* * *

Connie sits in the back seat — behind the driver’s seat occupied by her father — gazing out of the window. Her mother occupies the other side of the back seat.

(The passenger seat is statistically the most dangerous.)

“What do you think?” Doug asks.

“Hmm?” Priyanka says.

“You know, this ‘Medical Scanner’. What are you expecting?”

Priyanka shrugs. “If I have her pegged right, this Rose Quartz character was a very dedicated biologist who spent the better part of recorded history studying humanity.

“If she didn’t personally know more about medicine than every doctor I’ve ever met put together, I’ll eat my hat,” she says, almost in a drone.

Doug snickers. “Feeling good or feeling bad?”

“Honestly, I don’t know.”

They pull up close to the big donut and Doug parks flawlessly. (He’s not a bad driver, he’s just bad at snow — it’s on his to-do list to take some courses in driving on slippery roads one day.)

The atmosphere is one Connie has never experienced herself — parental anxiety preceding a doctor’s appointment. Any such concerns have been irrelevant her whole life, what with her mother being a general practitioner.

Of course, Connie doesn’t know this, and in general finds it uncomfortable and confusing. Continuing on foot, they round the bend of the beach, and the beach house comes into view.

Steven, from up on the deck, spots them and runs down the steps and jump down the drop off the side of the slope. He lands and rolls, and keeps running, right towards her.

Connie sets into a run towards him.

“Hey—” her father manages behind her.

They reach each other and Steven deftly sweeps her off her feet in passing, and they spin around one another to bleed off the momentum.

They come to rest in a tight hug.

“I missed you,” Steven murmurs.

They break the hug, and Connie brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, and takes Steven’s hand. “So… I tell you about my crazy day, you tell me about your crazy day?” she says and they set off towards the beach house, keeping out of earshot of her parents.

* * *

Connie and Steven have taken to the deck outside to escape from the very grown up conversation which is undoubtedly going to happen inside. Connie waves at them, as Doug and Priyanka enter the beach house.

Inside, it looks like it always has — save for a couple of new floorboards. A new round table — smaller and less expensive this time — has replaced the mahogany monstrosity from the day before, and on it cups, tea, and pastries wait. The blackboards and bulleting boards are still in place.

Around the table sit two unfamiliar faces, holding hands and looking sullen, and opposite them sits Opal — only she is no longer ten feet tall. None of them are partaking in the baked treats; Opal is sipping a cup of tea.

“Wonderful of you to come,” Opal says.

“I don’t know about that,” Doug says and points at the two others “Who might you two be?”

“I am Sapphire, and this is Ruby. You’ve met us in the form of Garnet.”

Doug just nods. Priyanka inches behind him.

“We’re sorry,” Ruby says. “For yesterday.”

“As you can see, we have taken every precaution to make sure there will not be a repeat of yesterday’s debacle,” Opal says. “Pastry?”

“No thanks,” Priyanka says. “You said something about a medical scanner?”

Opal nods. “If you wish, we can dispense with the pleasantries and take you to it right away?”

Priyanka nods. Opal gets up, and walks noiselessly over to the screen windows. “You two, come inside, please.”

“So, where is it?” Priyanka asks.

“Through the depths of the Temple.”

“Oh.”

“We used to have it at out outpost on the African continent, but we lost power there a while back. We have a backup device on Antartica, but we’ve lost the transportation equipment.”

Steven and Connie enter.

“Let’s go,” Opal says, and sets off towards the temple door.

* * *

Having passed through the door to a section of the temple so long untouched it would be covered in dust were it not self-cleaning, the small procession walk deeper into the temple along walkways over deep chasms.

It’s not a narrow walkway, but it is not entirely comfortable either. Opal and the two adults walk in front.

“Why are there no safety railings?” Priyanka asks.

Opal leading the way, almost stumbles, snorting loudly. She laughs briefly and loudly. “Why would you _ever_ want to do that?”

“It’s dangerous to the point of OSHA-noncompliance,” Priyanka says. “What’s so funny?”

“What? Oh. _Oh,_ ” Opal says, “right, forgive me Dr. Maheswaran. That was rude of me.”

“OK, but I still want to know why there aren’t any railings,” Priyanka says.

“It’s a fool’s step.”

Doug furrows his brow. “A what?”

Opal shrugs. “It’s dangerous, but only a little. Ambiance, you know?”

“I really don’t…”

* * *

“You seem remarkably at ease with the situation, all things taken into consideration,” Sapphire says. Ruby and she are walking backwards with perfect confidence, in front of Steven and Connie.

Connie shrugs. “I’m used to my parents fuzzing. I’m all they have, after all.”

Ruby nods sagely.

“And, well, I got to meet you two,” Connie continues, “albeit under less than pleasant circumstances. I’m sorry about you two being apart.”

“We appreciate the sentiment, but don’t pity us,” Ruby murmurs.

Connie looks at Steven who hasn’t said a word since they entered the temple. “What’s the matter, Steven?”

“Hnn~,” he groans.

“Steven,” she says.

“Everything. Everything is the matter. Each time Ruby and Sapphire are around it’s because something terrible has happened. I like you two as much as I like Garnet, but… It’s not funny. And I don’t like Opal much either. She’s… Off. And I’m scared too, that we’re gonna find out that fusing is unhealthy and we can’t form Stevonnie anymore.”

Ruby looks down.

“It’s not unhealthy,” Sapphire says.

“How do you—” Connie begins.

Sapphire smiles knowingly.

“ _Oh,_ ” Steven and Connie both say in realization.

They walk on in silence, Ruby and Sapphire turning around to walk forwards, Connie enjoying the new and interesting patterns in the violin music she is ever so accustomed to.


	52. Deep Scan

After descending who-knows-how-far in an elevator (again, without guard rails) into the chasms, and walking down branching, identical corridors for several minutes, Steven asks the obvious question.

“How big is the temple, really?”

Opal looks at him. “Vast. It’s physical gestalt occupies almost the entire underground of the Delmarva peninsula.”

They turn a corner and come up to a massive steel door. Opal swings it open, and they enter into a big, irregularly shaped cavern — as if a natural cavern was adapted into a room. Parts of the floor are cut stone, parts are metal plate.

It is littered with equipment — from what appears to be an operating theater, to a device containing several gem-shards. Along one wall numerous devices hang, including four duplication wands.

But the main attraction is an enormous spherical geode, cloven vertically in two, next to an enormous clear crystal with pentagonal facets, connected to each other with a variety of colored transparent pipes. One particularly vibrant pink pipe goes directly into the ceiling. In front of it sits a hand-shaped control pedestal.

“This is it,” Opal says. “In here, Rose studied Earth’s biodiversity — humanity in particular — for the better part of twenty-eight centuries. And _that_ is the scanner.”

* * *

Connie stands on an invisible floor inside the geode — it is twenty-five feet in diameter. It is lit by a soft glow on the inside, and is full of blue crystals.

“I’m going to close it now,” Opal says to her.

Connie gives a thumbs-up.

Silently, the two hemispheres slide together and interlock seamlessly. She is almost exactly at the center of the chamber. A melodic timbre sounds, and the halves slide apart again.

“Was that it?” Priyanka asks outside the geode.

“Yes,” Opal replies. “Come out here, Connie.”

* * *

The transparent crystal holds a slightly transparent image of Connie, wreathed in frozen colored mist in three-dimensional fractal patterns. The image of her is standing in the exact same posture, and with the exact same facial expression as she had inside the geode.

And thankfully it is fully clothed.

“So…” Priyanka says.

Opal places a hand on the hand-shaped pedestal. “Right; the interface is a little complicated, um… If I only had a holographic conduit— _gah_ , this is almost demeaning.”

“What is?” Connie asks.

“This,” Opal says, and from Pearl’s gem, a vast number of holographic constructs — dull blue spheres — spawn in a semi-circle in front of Priyanka. “I am now your glorified user interface.”

Priyanka looks at the various bluish transparent charts hanging in the air. “Huh. Can you bring up the regular vitals?”

Inside the crystal, the image of Connie is promptly stripped naked. Steven covers his eyes with his arm.

Then it explodes noiselessly into blobs of disjointed flesh, coming to rest, hovering in an even spread inside the crystal.

One of the holographic constructs — a rectangular screen — flickers, and starts listing things, slowly at first.

Blood pressure — systolic, diastolic, and mean; heart rate — resting, and peak; peak oxygen uptake; blood sugar uptake rates; kidney function metrics; liver function metrics; immune system metrics..

Then it starts getting esoteric: scarring rates for soft-tissue injuries, bone regeneration rates, approximate hours of sleep deprivation, gastrointestinal peristaltic rates, pain response reflex times, gut flora composition, skin flora composition…

She looks at Opal. The Gem has her eyes fixed on the swirling mists of the crystal, and her brow furrowed in concentration.

“How on Earth…” She mutters. “This is a static scan?”

Opal nods.

“Assuming these numbers are faithful — and they seem to match up to what I already know, at least — this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen.”

“Rose was,” Ruby says.

“What?”

“The most incredible thing.”

Priyanka nods. “OK, what about something more… In-depth? Can you give me an over-view of her metabolism?”

Opal’s brow furrows deeper as she stares into the swirling mists, now moving in complicated choreographies. “One moment…”

The image of Connie re-adjoins into discrete organ systems — skin, central and peripheral nervous, circulatory, lymphatic, digestive, renal, muscular, skeletal.

One of the generic holograms flicker and dissolves into smaller blobs — data listings, two-dimensional and three-dimensional graphs, ball-and-stick models of organic molecules, models of organs.

“I don’t know what half of this is supposed to look like,” she admits, perusing the impressive amount of data. “ _Are_ there any metabolic anomalies?”

“According to the system, she’s as healthy as can be, Dr. Maheswaran,” Opal says.

“OK. How about cancer growths, cysts, scarring, inflammation, and infections? How is her immune system doing?”

The Connie image re-orders into sub-millimeter cross-section slices. Two other copies appear, sliced orthogonally to the first and each other.

A third holographic construct unfolds into a stylized Connie, and various locations inside it lights up — mostly skin deep. A few in the lower abdominal cavity, and a single indicator highlighting her left shinbone. Otherwise there are none.

“No infections of any kind — viral, bacterial, parasitic, or fungal,” Opal mutters. “There’s some remnants of cysts… She fractured her tibia when she was around four, is that correct?”

Priyanka nods. “Remnants of cysts..?” she mutters.

The slice-view disappears in favor of an expanded showing of lymph-nodes, the lymphatic system, and a number of glands. A fourth construct unfolds into a graph of projected median T-cell counts, and white counts in the case of infection, depending on severity and— well, a lot of other factors.

It is hideously complicated, and Priyanka gives up discerning much more than the basic information. “Genome?”

A fifth sphere unfolds into models of the twenty-three chromosomal pairs, before exploding them into vast abbreviated tracts of genome, highlighting the genes.

Priyanka exhales, running a hand through her hair. “Could you highlight any genetic diseases and defects?”

“There aren’t any. Not even carried recessive alleles.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good news,” Priyanka mutters looking over the vast collection of information laid out in front of her. She shakes her head, grinning. “I’m not qualified to interpret half of this. If it’s not too much to ask— is it even possible to get a print? And a cliffs notes version?”

Opal cocks her head to one side. “We don’t exactly have a printer, but I suppose I can write it down for you…

“Anyway; there’s no metabolic anomalies, no genetic damage, no cellular damage, no tissue degradation, no neurological mis-patterning, no cancer, no infections, very few accumulated toxins, no foreign bodies, not pregnant…

“She is in excellent physical shape, her neurotransmitter levels are nominal, hormone balance is normal for a girl in the early stages of puberty…

“According to the projections, Connie will live to be over a hundred if she maintains a balanced diet. No signs she will develop any degenerative diseases at any age.

“Connie quite simply couldn’t be healthier.”

* * *

Priyanka looks at Opal, and then at her husband — in her eyes is something Doug has not seen often. Deep wonder.

(In fact, he knows each and every time he has seen his wife like this: when she graduated and received her medical license, when they got married, when she got her own practice, and when Connie was born.)

“You’re happy,” he says.

“Yes, oh gosh yes,” she replies, “Opal, thank you ever so much for taking us here…”

“You’re welcome,” Opal says, smiling warmly.

Priyanka looks over the holograms again. “I have a million questions; I want to show this to a panel of experts; I want myself and Doug scanned; I— This is amazing! _Beyond_ amazing.

“Connie…” She says.

Connie has been more focused on the images in the crystal than her mother for most of the session. Steven, beside her, holding her hand, is still shielding his eyes.

Connie turns her attention back to where her mother is surrounded by holograms.

Priyanka steps through one of the holograms, and walks up to her daughter.

“Mother?” Connie asks.

Priyanka crouches in front of her. “I… When Opal has written me a report, I’m going to call some colleagues and confirm; but…

“I think I overreacted a little.”

Connie hugs her.

“That still doesn’t mean you’re in the clear, little lady, I still need more data, but it seems you aren’t sick at least. And that’s good.”


	53. Towards a Neccesary and Complete Citizenship

It’s a long trek back through the dungeons to the beach house. Connie’s and Steven’s moods are much improved; Ruby and Sapphire are still sullen; Dr. Maheswaran is giddy, which rubs off on Mr. Maheswaran.

Opal is exhausted, but proud of a good piece of work.

When they get back, the beach house now sports cold tea.

As soon as she reaches the table, Opal summons a fat stack of blank paper and four premium-grade ballpoint pens from Pearl’s gem, and starts writing on four different pages at once.

Ruby and Sapphire approach Priyanka.

“Dr. Maheswaran,” Sapphire begins. “Ruby and I are unaccustomed to being apart, and if it doesn’t bother you, we would like to be Garnet again.”

“We apologize for the commotion we made yesterday,” Ruby adds. “If it does bother you, then we’re going to go ahead with it anyway. Sorry.”

Priyanka crosses her arms. “Far be it from me to have a say in the actions of magical aliens.”

The two small Gems take two steps back, then two steps apart. They bow to one another, Ruby does a chassé towards Sapphire; Sapphire, a pirouette. They join hands and Sapphire takes lead for all but three ballroom steps before they dissolve into light.

The light solidifies into Garnet, with her usual stoic expression; standing with her feet hips width apart, arms akimbo.

She reaches up and summons a pair of glasses, then adjusts them. “Hello again, Dr. Maheswaran. I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday.”

“I feel sorry for the floor, but it looks like it’s been fixed nicely,” Priyanka quips.

Garnet nods. “This place has been wrecked a couple of dozen times. We’re good at it.” She turns to Opal. “How far are you with that?”

“Give me seven minutes.”

Garnet nods. “How about a fresh cup of tea?”

* * *

With a fresh pot of tea on the table, they all gather. Opal keeps scribbling away (in impeccably neat handwriting, and enormously detailed hand-drawn graphics,) and Priyanka takes a seat next to her, following the progress.

“I can’t help but notice that it doesn’t seem like any of you are holding down steady jobs. How do you pay your living expenses?” Doug asks.

“Greg provides a part of his income for Steven. For bigger things we have a store of commodities we can sell,” Garnet says. “Historical artifacts, gemstones, rare metals. If we can find a buyer, that is.

“Our last stable dealer died back in ’95, and we had to spend months finding anyone with the correct connections to sell to when we built the beach house.

“We don’t want to attract too much attention, and the connection we found was… No good. Greedy.”

Doug nods. “Your last stable dealer?”

“A museum director in France.”

“Oh. Hm. I take it you are in a bit of financial trouble?”

“Not really, no,” Garnet says.

Connie pipes up: “Well, Mr. Universe lives in a van. He doesn’t have a lot.”

Doug rubs his chin. “One question, Ms. Garnet. You can see the future?”

Garnet cocks her head. “Yes and no. It’s more complicated than that, but I possess a unique talent, and I do have good knowledge of most events before they happen.”

Doug nods sagely. “How about lottery numbers? Roulette? Horse racing?”

“Depends on the lottery. But for horse races, sure. Never tried a roulette, but I can predict coin flips,” Garnet says and smiles.

“How about the Stock Market?”

“What’s that?”

Doug shakes his head and smiles. “You really are an alien,” he says. “I have an idea, but it is going to take some time to enact. Do you three have citizenships?”

Garnet turns to Opal. “Do we have citizenships?”

“Yes, somewhere,” Opal says without looking up. “President Henry Clay gave the four of us citizenship by executive order. It is unlikely a later president revoked it.”

Doug pulls out his smartphone and types in a search engine query. “Good. That means we can get you social security numbers, passports, ID’s, and a lot of other stuff necessary for you to incorporate.”

“Incorporate?” Steven asks.

“… And ‘The Crystal Gems Inc.’ is _not_ a registered trademark. Who would have thought,” Doug continues.

“So, what does that mean?” Steven says.

“It means, I think we can make you all rich — or well-off, at least — using Garnet’s future vision,” Doug says. “At least give you a stable source of income so Greg doesn’t have to live in a van anymore.”

Steven and Connie look at each other, starry eyed.

Steven looks at Garnet. “Can we?”

Garnet shrugs and smiles. “I’ll give it a try.”

“I think you should,” Connie says. “If nothing else, then for Steven’s sake. You said you wanted to integrate with humanity, and well… Money is important to people.”

Opal lays down a pen — still without looking up — points at Connie. “That’s a good point,” she says and picks up the pen again.

“It is,” Garnet concurs. “We’ll give our honest best effort, then.”

Doug steeples his fingers, elbows on the table. “There’s a lot of possibilities here. I’m an entrepreneurial man myself, so I might be able to give some pointers.

“You need a lawyer and an accountant, at the very least. If you put them on this ‘white list’ of yours it should smooth over matters — mind, that is only a suggestion.”

Opal stacks the last sheets, and pulls a roll of string and large needle out of Pearl’s gem. Deftly she sews the pages together, creating a neat little manual. She hands it to Priyanka.

“Thanks,” Priyanka says.

“Any time,” Opal says and stands. “I guess this is it for me today, one last thing…” She stands ands grows to her full size, stretching — touching the ceiling above with her fingertips. “That’s better.”

Garnet stands up. “You’re splitting up?”

In two quick steps, Opal is upon Garnet, kneeling, two hands on the floor, the other two cradling Garnet’s head.

She plants a gentle kiss on Garnet’s lips, and Garnet is surprised for all of half a second, then reciprocates, kissing Opal deeply, running a hand over her shoulder, brushing her cheek with the other. Opal pulls back, with a sultry look in her eyes and Garnet blushes a deep, deep crimson.

“Yeah… I am,” Opal whispers and rises, in one fluid motion with supernal grace stepping back, and languidly forming the manji with her arms.

A flash of light, and a gust of wind punctuates the return of Pearl and Amethyst. They stand together, Pearl embracing Amethyst from behind, leaning over the smaller Gem with arms slung over her shoulders fingers intertwined; Amethyst turning her head upwards towards Pearl, one hand running through Pearl’s hair, the other caressing her shoulder.

Their lips are barely an inch apart. Pearl pulls back, hesitantly, and Amethyst turns around. For a brief moment they stare at one another.

“Pearl—” “Amethyst—”

They both start giggling. Pearl swoops Amethyst into a hug, lifting her by they waist and swings her around while they both laugh. They come to a stop and Amethyst wraps her legs around Pearl’s hips.

“Whoohoo” Amethyst hollers. “Oh my gosh, we _have_ to do that more often!”

“Oh, it was amazing!” Pearl sing-songs.

Priyanka almost drops another quip about _Gem-sex_ , but Connie manages to catch her attention and draws an ‘X’ across her lips, with a stern expression on her face.

Garnet looks at the two, silently touching her lips.

* * *

Normality. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl; as it should be. Steven’s relief is palpable. Here they are again, his trio of space caretakers, aunts, surrogate moms, best buds…

That, tea, Connie by his side, and a pastry that has been lying in a bread basket for a few hours, is what constitutes happiness in this moment.

Mr. Maheswaran alternates between writing things down on paper, and searching for things on the Internet. Priyanka looks at the Gems — Pearl and Amethyst sitting next to each other, and Garnet next to Pearl — with a suppressed smile on her lips, sipping her tea.

Pearl and Amethyst are chatting quietly about being Opal, and Garnet is still touching her lips — now with a knuckle.

“I suppose,” Priyanka begins, placing a hand on the report in front of her, “while my husband researches, that I ought to keep the conversation going.”

Garnet is shaken from her thoughts, Pearl and Amethyst look up.

“Where does Steven go to school, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He doesn’t,” Pearl says, “I have taught him to read and write the English language in Latin script, cursive handwriting, touch typing on the Q-W-E-R-T-Y keyboard, English grammar, and syllogistic reasoning.

“Mathematically, he knows Arabic numerals, roman numerals, algorist arithmetic, abbacist arithmetic, credit and debit, negative numbers, fractions, geometry with compass and straight edge.

“He asked some questions once and we dipped into the atomic nature of matter on one occasion, and a little astronomy.

“Greg taught him the ukulele, music theory, and poetry — though less rigorously that I’d like. Garnet is teaching him scientific boxing and olympic wrestling.

Priyanka crosses her arms. “What about history? Geography? Algebra?”

“History is hardly important when he can ask us about it. We were there for literally all of it that matters,” Pearl says. “As for geography, that’s what globes and atlases are for, and Algebra isn’t very useful on it’s own.”

“What about other natural sciences?”

“His mother was a biologist, I know a passable amount of basic engineering and physics. He can just ask, and for anything we can’t answer, there’s the Internet,” Pearl says and nods towards Doug, still buried in his phone.

“The problem is that there are things one does not know to ask about,” Priyanka says. “The things you don’t know you don’t know.” She turns to Steven. “Steven, tell me, would you like to go to school?”

The stars in his eyes are all the answer anyone needs.


	54. Hurdles and Preparation

It’s an isolated twelve-year-old half-alien’s greatest dream: going to school. Steven looks at Pearl, giddy with excitement.

“Can I?”

Pearl hesitates. “I don’t know — I mean, isn’t there some procedure that has to be upheld?” she says and looks at Priyanka.

“Oh there is, but I think you can manage it, Pearl,” Priyanka says. “In fact, there ought to be a lot of procedures you need to observe to even begin to mingle with humanity in an official capacity —” she turns to her husband “— Doug, could you call up our lawyer?”

“On it,” he says and stands to walk outside.

Pearl looks at Garnet, who shrugs.

“What’s a lawyer?” Amethyst asks.

“Professional legal council,” Pearl says, “do we need that?”

Priyanka starts listing on her fingers. “You need social security numbers, passports, and a lot of other documentation — you’ll probably want to be signed on as Steven’s legal guardians… You’ll definitely need a tax lawyer too… Then there’s insurance, Steven’s medical history, bank accounts, a corporate front through which to sell your historical artifacts…”

Pearl interjects. “I am fairly well-versed in the workings of a bureaucracy, seeing as I have worked in one. It shouldn’t be too difficult; how much legislature does all this fall under?”

Priyanka shrugs. “More than anyone can quantify. New laws are passed every few months, have been for centuries. There’s hundreds of thousands of pages out there.”

Pearl’s pupils shrink to dots.

Priyanka snickers. “That’s why you need a lawyer. But enough of that for the moment; Steven will need a licensed tutor to bring him up to speed — how old are you, Steven?”

“Twelve,” Steven says.

Priyanka nods. “That puts you probably in fifth or sixth grade. Tutors are expensive, so you will probably need to find a new buyer, too.”

She takes out her smartphone and starts searching.

* * *

“You don’t have a phone?” Doug asks incredulously.

“Nope,” Amethyst says. “Steven has one, but why would anybody wanna call _us?_ ”

“You might wanna call someone else,” he suggests. “Is there an electronics store in Beach city?”

“Sure, down on the main street,” Steven says.

“I’ll be right back,” Doug says and stands.

“You’re buying them a phone?” Priyanka asks.

“Just a cheap prepaid cell. Nothing fancy.”

* * *

“Now, any idea where you can find a new buyer for your historical artifacts?” Priyanka asks.

“Most probably,” Garnet begins, “the late museum director had a confidante of some sort. I’ll try to get in touch.”

Garnet gets up and heads to the warp pad.

* * *

“Hey, about a tutor for Steven,” Amethyst says. “Vidalia is a school teacher… Well, she’s in-between jobs, but still.”

“That’s your… Friend, right?” Priyanka asks. “Go find her, or give her a call and air the possibility. When Garnet finds you a buyer, you can pay her for services rendered.”

Amethyst hops up and runs off.

* * *

Priyanka looks up from her phone, and looks at Pearl, sitting with Steven’s laptop looking stuff up per request. “Pearl, how quickly can you get to the capital?”

“Washington City? Half an hour on foot. Why?” The Gem replies.

(Priyanka briefly considers the implication of ‘half an hour on foot’ and ‘two and a half hour drive’ being the same in terms of distance.)

“How quickly do you read?”

Pearl chuckles. “ _Very._ ”

“OK, go to the capital library and get a librarian to help you find introductory textbooks in civics, tax law, criminal law, and finance…. Wait, without an ID you can’t get a library card—” Priyanka says and rubs her chin.

Pearl looks up from the computer.

Connie holds up the duplicator wand, slowly twirling it.

“Brilliant,” Pearl says.

Hesitating, Connie holds out the wand to Pearl.

Pearl shakes her head, smiling. “Keep it, I’ll bring one of the spares from the operating theater in the scanner room.”

* * *

Doug returns to find a rather depopulated beach house. “Where did they all go?”

“I sent them on some errands,” Priyanka replies, looking up her phone and a mind-map-slash-to-do-list in the making.

Doug nods. “Steven, could you find a good place for this thing and charge it?” he says and holds out a small box with a graphic of an older model cell phone on it.

“Sure,” Steven says and comes down from the loft. Connie and he got bored of the whole debacle after about twenty minutes, and have been watching TV since.

“When are we going home today?” Connie asks. “I have tennis practice, remember?”

“I haven’t forgotten, Connie. We’re leaving as soon as Amethyst or Pearl gets back,” Priyanka says. “I also need to call up some study mates for a consult on all this —” she indicates to the thick report Opal produced.

* * *

The burner rings. Steven picks it up. “Hello?”

“ _Hi Steven,_ ” Pearl says from the other end. “ _It works! How neat._ ”

“Yeah, it does. Where are you calling from?”

“ _A pay phone at the library._ ”

“Oh. How did you know the number?”

“ _… What do you mean? I just pressed the buttons in the way that would get me through to you?_ ”

“Um… OK. Are you calling about anything specifically?”

“ _Yeah, could you give me Dr. Maheswaran?_ ”

* * *

No sooner has Pearl hung up than the burner rings again. Steven picks it up. “Hello?”

“ _Hi Steven, it’s Vidalia._ ”

“Oh. Hi.”

“ _Amethyst just came over and told me you were looking for a tutor to get you ready for stating school._ ”

“Yeah, I am. How did you get this number?”

“ _Um… Amethyst knew it? Anyway, if you are comfortable with it we can schedule a few hours to see if we’re compatible — otherwise I have some old colleagues who are strapped for money._ ”

“Uh… Sure.”

“ _Great, I’ll consult my schedule and call you back, OK?_ ”

She hangs up.

“How on Earth are they calling?” Doug ponders aloud.

Steven shrugs. “I think it’s a magic thing. I’m not sure.”

* * *

The phone rings again.

Steven picks it up. “Hello?”

“ _Hi Steven,_ ” Garnet says. “ _I’m in France. Souvenir?_ ”

“Uh… You don’t have to. Any luck?”

“ _Yeah, but it’s late in the evening. I managed to find the museum directors daughter, but we need a Swiss bank account. I’m coming back now._ ”

* * *

Surprisingly, Pearl is the first one back, seeing as Amethyst went a five minute walk away.

“Hello again,” she says, carrying a sheet full of books over one shoulder.

“Did you get the books?” Priyanka asks.

Pearl nods and puts the sheet down. Inside are numerous titles — college level textbooks mostly; layman’s introductions; ‘___ For Dunces’ books. Civics, finance, recent history, criminal justice, tax law, corporate theory, gambling, organization theory.

“I went a little overboard; I might not be able to read all of these before they vanish in two days’ time,” she says.

“That’s fine. Be sure to read the introductory chapters of all of them first, and prioritize —”

“Civics, finance, and law, you told me.”

“Hey Pearl,” Steven says. “Garnet called from France, she has a buyer, but says you need a swiss bank account?”

Pearl thinks for a moment. “… I think we have that already? Let me go look for the papers.”

“Before you do that,” Priyanka says, “we’re going to go. Connie has tennis practice.”

She hands Pearl a small stack of sheets. “Here’s a rough outline of the to-do list. Doug brought you a phone, which I will recommend you stick to even though it’s prepaid. There’s a number for our lawyer in the list, give him a call tomorrow. Call us if there is anything; we’re more than willing to help.”

Pearl pages through the list — over ten pages of neat handwriting. “Thank you very much, Dr. Maheswaran,” Pearl says, “it’s been a pleasure.” She holds out a hand.

Priyanka takes it. “The pleasure is all mine, Pearl.”

* * *

Steven and Connie say their goodbyes, and the Maheswarans take off, leaving Steven and Pearl kind of amazed. The Maheswaran parents are frighteningly efficient.

“Pearl, I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s ‘sex’?”


	55. The ‘Talk’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so fair warning: this chapter contains a literal sex talk. To my knowledge this is the best one can do in two thousand words (and several life drawings) — if you think it is inaccurate in any way, feel free to say so.
> 
> But remember it is like sex as it is with maths: you gotta simplify first. And do bear in mind that it's a literal space alien doing the talking.
> 
> If you think this is too “adult” for a General Audiences rating, I've got some bad news for you: the ‘sex talk’ is literally intended for children. Sex is natural, unlike violence.

Steven, now standing outside the beach house, isn’t quite sure why asking an innocuous question like that would upset Pearl so much. And he isn’t sure how she managed to recover her composure, deflect his question, disappear into the temple, and send him outside in what seemed like three seconds.

But one thing she did get out was that he ought to ask Amethyst. And seeing as she has disappeared off to Vidalia’s, he walks that way.

It’s early afternoon and the streets have a visible tourist presence.

As the last time he visited, the garage door is open with a tarp covering it. From inside, he hears muffled voices. He lifts the tarp.

Inside, Vidalia sits by a canvas with a color sketch, and Amethyst stands reference, in an impossible pose — frozen in the middle of swiveling on one heel, swinging her whip which hangs similarly frozen in the air. It’s a pose as dynamic as it is utterly impossible.

“Oh, hi Steven,” she says.

“Hello Steven,” Vidalia says without looking up.

“Hi,” Steven replies. “Nice pose.”

Amethyst grins.

“About the tutoring — I’m free all Thursday. How does that sound?” Vidalia says.

Steven nods. “Where?”

“Anywhere you want,” Vidalia says.

“Even the beach house?”

“Yup. Thursday at the beach house then.”

Steven nods — reassured he probably won’t have to contend with Onion.

Amethyst cocks her head. “What’s up, little man?”

“I kind of have a question…” Steven says.

“Yeah? Spit it out!”

Steven rubs his shoulder. “I don’t know, Pearl reacted badly when I asked her…”

Vidalia looks up from the canvas, at Steven.

“Amethyst, what’s this ‘sex’ thing?”

Vidalia starts chuckling. “Hoo~ boy.”

Amethyst’s whip dissipates and she stands back down. “That’s gonna take a while to explain.”

“You’re really going to?” Vidalia asks. “Didn’t peg you for one to teach Steven things.”

“It’s not like I’ve done it more times than you’ve had hot dinners, squirt. Six thousand years, remember?” Amethyst retorts.

Vidalia blushes. “Oh. Yeah, right. That makes sense.”

“Do you have some charcoal and a sketch pad I can have?”

“I only have graphite, but sure.”

* * *

It’s a short trip to the Big Donut.

Amethyst begins. “Sex is complex. OK? It’s not just one thing, and anyone who tries to tell you different has got it wrong.

“Most people don’t feel comfortable talking about it either.”

“But you do?” Steven asks.

“Yeah. It’s one of the most natural things,” Amethyst says. Steven cocks his head. “And yeah, I know I still haven’t told you what it _is_.

“Some would say that sex is the thing you do when you want a child. And that’s true, but it’s not the whole truth. I’m skirting the subject — I’ve been hanging out with too many poets.”

She flips to a blank page of the sketch pad and starts drawing — nude people — with amazing skill, capturing animate gesture and important detail with preternatural ease.

They arrive at the big donut before she’s done drawing.

“Hi Steven, hi Amethyst,” Sadie says as they enter.

“What can I get you two today?” Lars asks.

“Hi Sadie, Lars. Half-dozen donuts please,” Steven says. “Surprise me.”

Lars starts selecting donuts.

“I didn’t know you drew?” Sadie asks Amethyst. “Can I see?”

Amethyst hands her the pad. The first four pages are filled with nude figures of widely varying build and body-type. Chubby, short, athletic, gangly, masculine, feminine, androgynous, bushy, smooth. Standing, sitting, stretching, kissing, embracing.

Sadie blushes harder with each page she turns. “Wow, are you sure Steven should be seeing this, Amethyst?”

“What, is nudity unnatural?” Amethyst says defensively.

“No— it’s just… Wait, are you giving him the ‘sex talk’?”

“Crudely put…” Amethyst says, looking a little offended, “But yeah.”

“That’s the most tastefully rendered sex talk I have ever seen,” Lars comments. “You’re good.”

“I try,” Amethyst says, handing him a ten-dollar bill.

* * *

_Under the right circumstances, sex will conceive a child, and result in a pregnancy; but that is far from all sex is about._

_Biologically, sex is about making children. There’s a lot of biological details, but the cusp is that for having the traits of both the mother and father, it’s more likely the child will survive._

_What mostly happens is that a man and a woman get together in a private place, make themselves comfortable, and undress. That’s what all the nudes are for, in case you were wondering._

_Now, mostly, men and boys have penis and a scrotum. You have a penis… I’ve changed your diaper, little man, how could I not? Anyway, penises come in a lot of different shapes and sizes, looking a bit like_ these _and they change in appearance as you grow older. Nothing wrong with any different way a penis looks._

 _Mostly, women and girls have vulvae instead. You might not have seen one, although it’s not that hard to find pictures of either penises or vulvae on the Internet. Mostly they look like_ these, _but again there are many, many different ones, and there is nothing wrong with any different way a vulva looks._

_I have one, your mom had… Not sure about Garnet. Pearl doesn’t buy into having one. She looks like a doll with her clothes off. It’s a little funny._

_Now, what a vulva hides is a number of cool things. In behind the folds like_ these. _That little nub is the clitoris, we’ll get back to that — it’s important. That’s the urethra — where girls and women pee from. And that one is the vaginal opening._

_Yes, that’s the pooper too, there._

_Anyway, the vagina is what we need to talk about for now. Here’s what it sort of would look like if you could see inside people. It’s a deep opening that leads to the womb — which is the super cool organ that is capable of creating new human beings from_ almost nothing. _Yeah, I know. It’s so rad._

_Yeah, Rose’s womb is where you came from. She spent… I don’t know, untold centuries figuring out how to get one. I don’t have one, obviously. Too much work._

_Now, remember those two comfortable people? Usually, they are gonna start caressing each other, and kissing a whole lot. Yeah, tongue might get involved. Sometimes you kiss other things than the lips too._

_Then it gets pretty heated, and a number of things happen — notably the penis does_ this _fancy circus trick, and the vagina deepens and expands — I kid you not — and secretes this slick mucus. Yeah that sounds gross, but it’s not._

 _Then, this strapping gentleman and this lovely lady get nice and comfy in a way that lets his penis slide neatly into the vagina. Looks a bit like_ this _and if you look up close, something like_ this. _And trust me when I say, that feels amazing._

_I know. It’s weird. But in the heat of the moment you forget it. Trust me, you will understand when you’re older — and that’s not something I say to be condescending. It comes when you become a teenager._

_Now comes the weird part. They’re gonna start moving — it’s the in-out motion that’s where the fun’s at. And usually after two to fifteen minutes of that these two lucky ones might hit climax — that’s the high point, the best part, the cream of the crop._

_Now, the climax event might happen to either of them at different times — but the really obvious thing is that the guy’s penis is going to shoot out some white fluid: semen. And while reproductive biology isn’t really my strong suit, I can tell you that that is what the father contributes to any potential future baby._

_Yeah, it’s right next to the womb, good catch. If you want an in-depth thing, I can teach you how to use Rose’s library._

_Of course I know how: Pearl knows how to use it; Opal used it; Ergo I know how to use it. Well, at least the basics…_

_But back to the topic at hand: now you know how babies are made, but really that is not why people have sex, and there are a lot of ways to have sex without having a baby. And people do that all the time, because sex is a lot of fun._

_Having sex for fun is a different matter. You’re probably going to have sex some day, so let me impart to you the iron clad rule. You gotta agree to have sex, both of you. Yes means yes, no means no._

_Yeah, that is almost exactly like fusion. And yeah, forcing people to have sex is like Malachite._

_You gotta ask permission, you really, really gotta, and if at any point anyone says ‘stop’, you really, really gotta stop. Ask permission, yes means yes, no means no, stop means stop. Capisce?_

_OK. Second very, very important rule: always use protection. There are two downsides to having sex. One is that a baby can result. But the other is that there are several diseases that are transferred through sex._

_The only thing that really protects against diseases is a condom. Looks like_ this, _made of latex rubber, and you pull it over the penis like_ so. _Pretty smart invention, stops the semen from getting into the vagina, and stops diseases from jumping from one to the other._

_To avoid having babies there’s a number of things you can do — you heard Connie was on ‘the pill’? That’s a kind of medicine that tricks the body into thinking there’s already a pregnancy, so you don’t get pregnant; it also helps with some problems that can arise from having a vagina and a womb._

_Anyway, we can go over that with Rose’s library._

_OK, when I told you how sex works before, I was simplifying a lot of things. There’s a lot of ways to have sex, and the whole point is to feel good. There’s also a lot of different ways to fall in love. Most women and men like men and women respectively, but some women like women, and some men like men._

_Yeah, you might call the three of us ‘women’, although that’s not entirely accurate. Let’s shelve Gender talk for a minute._

_Getting people to feel good is all about touching them in the right way. There’s a lot of ways to do that aside from putting a penis in a vagina: you can use your hands, your mouth and tongue, there’s even a thing called ‘sex toys’. Silicone rubber shaped like penises and vaginas; little vibrating things. It’s like, the hallmark of human ingenuity._

_On the penis, the most sensitive part is the head — the glans — and just under the foreskin. The foreskin can be peeled back like_ so _when you’re older. Some people don’t have foreskins because some people think boys shouldn’t have it; personally I think that’s a horrible thing to do. Anyway, the trick is to make stroking motions around the shaft of the penis, up and down._

 _For the vulva, the most sensitive part is the clitoris. Hands down, that’s where all the action is. Some people can’t even climax without having their clitoris touched. Second to that is the vagina itself, and the labia,_ these _parts here._

 _Always when having sex, it’s important to talk to each other. Especially since you don’t have a vulva — well, I suppose if you learned to shape shift better you_ could _have. I sometimes feel like being a guy, did you know that? Yeah, Purple Puma is a guy, that’s right._

 _Anyway, there’s also a third option. You’re gonna think I’m disgusting now. Here goes: it’s the butt._ Hah! _Oh man the look on your face… Yeah, some people like it, some don’t. Here’s the weird part let me just draw you… Yeah, that’s the things on the inside. This thing here, is called the prostate. From inside the butt you can actually massage it, and that’s pretty intense._

_Then there’s all these other things that vary a lot more: breasts are usually at least a little sensitive. Some people like their ears played with. The mouth is also really sensitive — that’s part of why you kiss. Back of the thighs, fingers… There’s lots._

_Very importantly, you can also do sex things alone. That’s perfectly natural, and most people do it; using either hands or a toy. It works on the same basic principles._

_OK, enough about the ‘gross’ bits. Let’s talk Gender and Love. First of all, not all women and girls have vulvae, and not all men and boys have penises; what makes you a girl or a boy is what you think about yourself, not what’s between your legs. Some people don’t even feel like being a man or a woman._

_Yeah, I’m one of those. Sometimes I feel like one, sometimes the other. Pearl, and Garnet feel mostly like women. Rose too. Yeah, really we’re Gems, and with shapeshifting it’s not really important, but still._

_Actually, shapeshifting is probably something I need to address. I am an expert at shapeshifting. I am to shapeshifting what Garnet is to fusion, you know what I mean? And the fact that I can turn into a variety of sexual shapes doesn’t invalidate anything or anyone._

_Another important detail about shapeshifting: rule number one still applies. Animals can’t talk, so you can’t ask. If you have a shapeshifting idea, ask your partner about it first too. And I’d also advise against aging yourself up—_

_… Yeah, OK, I can see on your face you’re not going to. That’s good…_

_Where were we… Right: some humans don’t even have either a penis or a vagina. Like, it’s rare, but they have a thing that’s in-between. It’s because when a baby is growing inside the womb, the whole penis/vagina thing actually only happens three months into the pregnancy — usually it takes nine months in all. Before that, it’s essentially the same. No, I don’t know off-hand how it looks, but that’s in Rose’s library too._

_Anyway, more exceptions: some people don’t like sex. Some people don’t like love. Some people fall in love with both men and women. Some people fall in love with multiple people. And all of that is OK, and anyone who says otherwise is an ignoramus. Like, I just heard it recently became legal for two women or two men to get married; like it was_ illegal _beforehand! Do you know how long women have been loving women and men, men? Always is how long!_

 _Human culture has a lot if ideas about sex; and you’re gonna run into a lot of them. Another one I just feel like addressing because it is important, is the ‘first time’. The first time you have sex is going to suck. It always does. Some people think there is this thing called ‘virginity’ which is somehow ‘lost’ when you have your sex debut, but that’s nonsense. You_ gain _things when you start having sex. Good things._

 _Yeah, it gets me riled up. Anyway; right now, all this love and gender and sex business might seem new and unexplored to you, and that’s OK. You gotta take your time, and you’re always welcome to ask me about_ anything.

“That’s the short version,” Amethyst says lies back on the sand of the beach, munching on the last donut.

Steven pages through the sketches with a mixture of disgust and curiosity, while the sky turns orange in the dusk.


	56. Trivium, Quadrivium

It’s Thursday. Stacks of books litter the beach house, bound to poof at any moment.

Having finished a morning run around Beach City, Steven is eating a late breakfast (five scrambled eggs in a bowl,) up on the rafters. There he sits, listening to the radio which Amethyst brought so they could listen to the news. (Pearl complimented her for the idea.)

There’s a knock on the door. Without spilling any of his breakfast, Steven jumps down.

On the other side of the screen door is Vidalia with a heavy backpack.

“Hi Steven,” she says. “It’s Thursday.”

He rushes over to open the door. “Hi Vidalia.”

She sets down the backpack. “How did it go with Amethyst’s sex-education?”

Steven shudders a little, then shrugs. Vidalia chuckles.

“So, I have set aside the whole day. What are we going to do?” Steven asks.

“We’re going to figure out if I can teach you, how much stuff you can do and how much stuff you can’t.”

“Huh. OK.”

She looks around. “Do you read books? Hopefully not… _In-Depth Introductions to Banking Finance_ , or what? I don’t think I can teach you much if that is your level.”

“No, those are Pearls. She’s trying to figure out how money works.”

Vidalia nods sagely. “She always seemed to be the smart one. Also the gay one.”

“Gay?”

“Yeah, women lovin’ women?” Vidalia raises an eyebrow. “Amethyst covered that, right?”

“Oh. That has a _word_?”

“Yup.”

“ _Coo~l_ … But, I think all of them are this— how do you say… ‘Gay’. I mean, Garnet is a fusion; so she’s practically the love between Ruby and Sapphire. And Amethyst and Pearl become Opal together— and Opal kissed Garnet the other day…”

Vidalia giggles. “That’s cute.”

“I guess? I don’t really think about it. I just want them all to be happy.”

Vidalia ruffles his hair. “You’re a good kid, Steven. This motley crew did a good job raising you. Anyway, do you read?”

Steven nods. “Yeah, tons. Back a while I got grounded from TV, and I just read a bunch of books instead.”

“Oh yeah, which ones?”

“My friend Connie introduced me to a series called _The Spirit Morph Saga_? It’s four really thick books.”

Vidalia nods. “Never heard of them. Fantasy?” Steven nods. “Good. Anything else?”

“Uh, _No Home Boys_?”

“I know that one. Read them myself when I was your age.”

“Let me think… What else… _A Wrinkle in Time_ , _To Kill a Mocking Bird_ , _20 000 Leagues Under the Sea_ , _Slaughterhouse Five_ , _Surely You’re Joking Mr. Feynman_ , _The Illiad_ , …”

“That’s good. Classics. How about we make a cup of tea and then talk some more?”

“Oh, sure!”

* * *

“So, you’re an avid reader, and you like video games, watching TV, playing music, and going on magical adventures,” Vidalia says and takes a sip of her tea.

Steven nods.

“How about sports?”

“Garnet is teaching me to fight — wrestling, boxing. She’s told me I should run in the mornings.”

“Do you?”

“I run up and down the beach. Usually five miles or more.”

Vidalia nods in surprised approval. “Wow, you’re in really good shape!”

Steven shrugs. “I think it comes with being half Gem.”

“Well, it’s impressive none-the-less. Tell me, Steven, do you know what a dictation exercise is?”

* * *

Vidalia peruses the two paragraphs transcribed by Steven’s hand. “You have really good handwriting. How come?”

“Pearl taught me. She said it was important, so I put a lot of effort into it.”

“Your spelling is pretty good too. Would you mind doing another dictation exercise with me, but on the computer this time?”

* * *

Vidalia has barely spoken the last word before Steven is done typing. She looks over his shoulder and reads the transcription. “You’re a touch typist.”

“Yeah. It’s really useful,” Steven says.

“OK. How are you feeling?”

“It’s fun. Is this what you do at school?”

“Sort of. Right now I’m trying to judge how good you are. Are you up for something else? This here is a grammar test.”

* * *

“Five by Seven?”

“Thirty-five!”

“Four by Nine?”

“Thirty-six!”

“Seven by twelve?”

“Eighty-four!”

* * *

“Long division, too, Steven I’m tempted to call you a prodigy.” Vidalia fishes a pack of chocolate digestives. “Have a cookie for your good effort.”

“Thanks. Are we doing any more arithmetic?”

“Yeah.”

* * *

Steven fills out half a sheet of simple negative number exercises, then a sheet of fraction exercises, then half a sheet of decimal fraction exercises. Vidalia grows steadily more impressed.

“OK, next let’s have a look at some algebra,” she says.

“What’s that?”

“Finding unknown quantities? Equations?”

Steven shrugs.

“Maybe not. Perhaps some geometry?”

* * *

Vidalia shows Steven a sheet with a number of geometric shapes.

“Do you know how to find the area of a rectangle?” She points.

“Yeah, you extend the long side by the short side, let that be the diameter of a semicircle away from the rectangle, extend the short side to intersect the circumference and that extension is the base of the rectangle’s square.”

“… What?”

Steven runs over to the storage closet and returns with an unmarked ruler and a compass. In short order he constructs the square as specified.

Befuddled, Vidalia fetches a ruler and a calculator, measures the drawing and computes the area. “By Jove, you’re right. It’s not exactly the area as a number, but I’m really impressed. Did Pearl teach you that too?”

Steven nods. “It’s geometry.”

“How about that Triangle then?”

It’s a scalene. He fits the compass to the shorter side and finds where that circle intersects the base, bisects to get the height, and bisects that too. Then he draws a line through the height, parallel to the base, and then two height-parallel lines to complete a rectangle.

“Then you square that, like I did before.”

“Wow, you really know this stuff, I’ll say you know geometry; but maybe not conventionally. But that’s easy to teach seeing as you know all the shapes… Can you tell me what an obtuse angle is?”

“Greater than right!”

“How about a rhombus?”

“Four equal sides, opposite angles equal, none of the angles are right.”

* * *

“How much do you know about history?”

Steven shrugs. “Beach city was founded two-hundred years ago by William Dewey?”

“That’s a start. Do you know when the United States of America was founded?”

Steven shakes his head.

“Do you know what the World Wars were about?”

“Uh, some bad people in Europe? Feynmann worked on the bomb during the… Second one?”

Vidalia cocks her head. “Sort of. Do you know how laws are made?”

“Uh… No?”

* * *

“Do you know how the solar system looks?”

“Sure,” Steven says and starts drawing. “There’s the sun, which is a star. Then there’s Vulcan, Mercury, Venus, Terra with Luna, and Mars—”

Vidalia cocks an eyebrow. “Vulcan?”

“Yeah.”

“Pearl taught you this?”

“Yeah.”

“OK… Do continue.”

“All of these are small rocky bodies; then there’s an asteroid belt which is shepherded by Jupiter. Jupiter and Saturn are gas giants.

“Then there’s Neptune and Oranos, which are ice giants. Then there’s a comet belt…”

* * *

Vidalia hands Steven a gloss-laminated sheet. “This here is the periodic table of elements. It’s all the different kinds of atoms there is.”

“That’s a weird way of putting them,” Steven says.

“What do you mean?”

“Pearl had this neat spiral thing.”

“OK… Do you know how atoms combine into molecules?”

“Molecules? Wuzzat?”

* * *

By the time Steven calls for a late lunch, Vidalia has a list of topics. Civics, history, geography, biology, chemistry, physics, and algebra.

“Well, Steven, it seems you are about fifth or sixth grade — you have a lot of holes, but also a lot of areas where you are much more educated than is expected of your age.”

“Is that good or bad?” Steven says, in the process of making a sandwich.

“It’s gonna take some work. Tell me, do you like working with me?”

“Yeah, why shouldn’t I?”

The warp pad activates, and Pearl appears. “Oh, hello Vidalia. You’re teaching Steven?”

“Well, I’m finding out what he needs teaching. I have a question— what is this planet ‘Vulcan’? I’ve never heard of it,” Vidalia says.

Pearl smiles. “That’s quite natural. Last I checked human astronomers were unable to detect bodies that close to the sun. It’s quite small.”

“Oh.”

Pearl looks at Steven, smiling. “Steven, do you want Vidalia to be your teacher?”

“I think so,” he replies.

“Good,” Pearl says. “Vidalia, I’m assuming you have an hourly rate?”

Vidalia scraches her neck. “Not at the moment, no.”

“Well, when you do, know that we can pay it. I just came back from Switzerland — turns out we’ve had an account there for over two centuries which is still active. If I recall correctly we opened it by depositing a few dozen bars of gold.”

Steven cocks his head. “Whuzzat mean?”

“It means we are rich.”


	57. Good News

Steven and Vidalia look at each other for a beat.

“Whaa~?” Steven says, “we’re _rich_?”

“Well, as soon as we get a corporation in our name and can pay our due taxes. But yes, we will be well off,” Pearl says.

“That’s some good news,” Vidalia says. “What are you using this newfound wealth for?”

“Investing, mostly. A college fund for Steven. That sort of thing,” Pearl says. “For now, I think I ought to call up the Maheswarans with the news. Mr. Maheswaran is quite wise in the ways of money, he ought to have some suggestions.”

“Aww, does that mean I can’t get new stuff?” Steven asks.

Pearl steps over to him and ruffles his hair. “I suppose we can spare you an allowance. Maybe even help your father out.”

Steven pumps his fist in triumph. “Can I bring him the news?”

“Sure—” Pearl barely manages before he is out the door.

“He’s a fast one,” Vidalia says.

“Also, in my experience a quick study,” Pearl says. “Do you think you can teach him?”

Vidalia nods. “Yes, I think so. And thanks. This is the first work I’ve seen in a while.”

“Thank Amethyst. She was the one who suggested your services.”

* * *

Steven comes running up to the car wash. Greg is running the car washing machine on some customer’s car — a young man, from out-of-town.

“Dad! Great news!” Steven yells.

“What’s up, shtoo-ball?” Greg yells back.

Steven runs up to Greg and jumps up and down with a massive grin on his face.

“That’s my son,” Greg explains to the young car owner. “All right, kiddo, out with it?”

“Pearl just found out we have a bank account in Switzerland, and it’s _full of money!_ ”

“What?! _Really?_ That’s great!”

“Yeah! She said stuff about investing and college funds and an allowance and helping you!” Steven hugs Greg as he says the last part.

“Wow… That’s… That’s pretty huge. I mean, I’m not in money trouble, but the last few years have been… _Lean_. How about I finish washing this gentleman’s car, and we celebrate with a pizza?”

* * *

> 
>                                       Steven:
>     So pearl just found our we're totally
>     rich and I'm having pizza with my dad
>                              to celebrate
>     
>     Connie:
>     Really? How?
>     
>                                   Steven:
>      There was this bank account they had
>       forgotten about I don't really know 
>                               the details
>     
>     Connie:
>     OK. Well, we're coming by this
>     weekend; I've got fencing lessons,
>     and my parents want to talk to
>     G, A, & P.
>     
>                                   Steven:
>                                     Nice!
>     
>     Connie:
>     My mom has been calling around and
>     it seems I'm A-OK. So...  I'm
>     thinking we might introduce them to
>     Stevonnie.
>     
>                                   Steven:
>                                   Really?
>     
>     Connie:
>     ;)
>     
>                                   Steven:
>                               Yesssss! <3
>       

* * *

“So, you’ve got the Maheswarans helping the Gems get… Civilified?” Greg asks, after Steven has explained over a pizza at Fish Stew.

“Yeah.”

“I never thought they might not be fully fledged citizens. I guess I can see how… Good thing you are though.”

Steven cocks his head. “I am?”

“Yeah. I’ve got your birth certificate, and a few documents in a strongbox in a bank storage box in Crossroads Central Bank. It’s where I keep the most important things. And my bank account.”

Steven takes the second-to-last piece. “Connie’s parents talked about how we need ID’s and passports and Social Security numbers.”

“Well, you have a Social Security number, but yeah, a passport might be a good idea to have too,” Greg says and rubs his bearded chin.

“Dad, what’s all these things — birth certificate and passport and stuff?”

“Well a passport is a thing you use for travel, so people can see who you are and where you’re from. In our case the United States.

“Social Security numbers are a code the government uses to track a bunch of stuff — like taxes.

“An ID is a small card with your name, birth date, and photo on it. It’s so people can verify your name and age.

“And a birth certificate shows that you’re born a citizen of the United States. It’s kind of the thing you start out with.”

Steven ponders for a moment, and Greg takes the last slice of pizza.

“The Gems don’t have birth certificates,” Steven says.

“I’d reckon not. Amethyst is what, six thousand years old? The United States have only existed for four hundred years.”

“Opal said they have an ‘executive order’ that gives them citizenship. What’s that?”

Greg shrugs. “I didn’t pay much attention in civics… I think it’s something the President can sign?”

“What’s the president do?”

“Hoo boy, you’re not gonna stop asking questions are you?”

“Probably not.”

“The President is the head of the executive government… Err… Like, the government comes in three parts: the part that makes the laws, the part that makes sure people follow the laws, and the part that judges those who don’t. I think that’s called the… Separation of powers?

“We could go to the library if you’d like, find a book about it…”

Steven shakes his head. “It’s OK. Vidalia is going to teach me.”

“Vidalia?”

“She came by today — she’s going to teach me all the stuff I’m behind on so I can start school.”

Greg nods approvingly. “I actually had no idea she was a teacher. Huh. Well, that’s going to be a lot of fun, right?”

“I hope so.”


	58. Mundane Utility

Connie twirls the duplicator wand between her fingers absentmindedly as she reads the chapter on electricity in her science textbook.

It’s Saturday morning, and apart from the usual foray of cartoons, there isn’t much to do. So, homework it is.

From the kitchen wafts the smell of crépes. All around her the house is pristinely clean — every shelf is dusted, every sofa cushion puffed. Upstairs, her room will be tidy in a few minutes.

 _The English language lacks the terminology to talk about duplicated persons. Especially how convenient it is,_ Connie thinks as she catches a glimpse of a Clonnie in the kitchen setting up for breakfast.

Homework is the only thing which Connie has to do herself; not even the most tedious and routine book report is she allowed to delegate. Her mother was quite adamant about that once she grasped the nature of duplication.

But over the past week, her parents have been warming up to the idea of duplicated house help. All they need to do is teach Connie how to do each cleaning task (and Connie looks on as Clonnie performs it too, to correct any mistakes,) and then it will be performed regularly.

The house has never been cleaner. Cooked breakfast has never been more common an occurrence. (Well, Connie had to learn how to make crépes herself first — you get the idea.)

Priyanka comes down the stairs into the living room, in her usual bathrobe. “Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning,” Connie says and puts the bookmark down, closing her book.

“You’re up early?”

“Yeah, I was a little giddy. Coffee?” Connie says and hops out of the sofa.

“Yes please.”

As if on cue, a Clonnie emerges from the kitchen with two cups; wearing an apron — duplicated — over the green tunic and shorts Connie elected to wear today. Her forehead bears an ‘X’.

She hands one cup to Priyanka and the other to Connie. “Breakfast will be ready in about ten minutes. Where’s father?”

Doug comes trudging down the stairs, walks past the three mumbling something sounding like ‘good morning’, and continues into the basement for a morning workout in his pajamas.

That and coffee are the two things he swears by.

“No warm eggs for him,” Priyanka says with a wry smile and sips her coffee.

* * *

From the basement, one can hear the sounds of the barbell coming to rest on the rack, while the two Clonnies responsible for breakfast clean the pans and dishes.

On the back yard patio, Connie and Priyanka enjoy all the wonders of a cooked breakfast with none of the hassle.

“What are you so happy about?” Priyanka asks.

Connie has been consistenly unable to stop herself from smiling broadly every time she thinks of the plans for today.

She puts down her third crépe. “I am healthier now than I ever have been, right?”

Priyanka nods. “According to the specialists I was able to contact, yes.”

“So… Um. Would you like to meet Stevonnie?”

Priyanka cocks her head.

“Steven and Me. Fused.”

Priyanka frowns.

“Or not,” Connie adds.

Priyanka shrugs. “No, I suppose it’s better to get it over with. I’d really you rather waited a few more years before you started getting intimate with boys, but…”

“Ew, mother, don’t say stuff like that.”

“What, don’t you think I’ve noticed it? That— what was it; werewolf TV show. There’s an awful lot of good looking young men in that one. And they don’t often wear shirts.”

Connie blushes. “Still, Steven is my friend. I don’t think about him like that.”

“Of course you don’t,” Priyanka says and smiles. “You’re thirteen, Connie. It’s only natural. Just… Make sure you ‘un-fuse’ before going to the bathroom.”

“ _Mother!_ ”

Three Clonnies come out onto the patio with quick strides. A welcome distraction to a very flustered Connie. She turns in her seat to face them. “Bedroom?”

“All done,” one of them says.

Picking up the duplicator wand, she fires three beams with a flick of her wrist, disintegrating the trio; then turns back to her breakfast.

“It’s still a little unnerving how casually you do that,” Priyanka remarks.

* * *

The kitchen crew comes to be dismissed, and Doug comes out of the basement — trimmed, fresh, and sixty-six percent more awake than he was when he went down there. All black tee, khakis, and fatherly demeanor.

He kisses Connie on the forehead in passing, pours a cup of coffee, kisses Priyanka on the cheek, and takes a seat; all in one fluid motion.

“You’re in a good mood too,” Priyanka says.

He goes for a helping of lukewarm bacon and over-easy eggs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Connie says, and glares at her mother.

Doug looks at both of them. “Well, the weather is nice, and the breakfast is _really_ nice. And we’re going to visit the Universes, which thus far has never, ever been boring. What’s not to like?”

“You have a strange idea of entertainment,” Priyanka says.

“And you look up contagious diseases on the Internet, dear,” he retorts and bites down on a piece of semi-crisp bacon.

She sips her coffee. “Point.”

“Well,” Connie says, “I’m going to pack up my fencing gear. Should I clean the training equipment too?”

Doug shakes his head. “Already did.”

“You know, you don’t have to, dad. It’s what clones are for.”

He shrugs. “I like doing it. Therapeutic. And as I understand it, it’s still _you_ doing it, even if you don’t remember.”

Connie shrugs and goes inside. _I am flesh and blood,_ she thinks. _They are smoke and mirrors._

* * *

It’s thirty minutes before they leave — thirty minutes which Connie spends reading, while Clonnie reads the newspaper with a highlighter.

The drive to Beach city is as uneventful as ever, but this time they are bringing hardware: laptops, a laser printer, two lab mice in a cage, a number of sheep’s blood samples infected with a variety of antibiotics-resistant bacteria.

Connie stares out the window at the familiar scenery. _Would have been better to ride Lion._

“I’m going to ask Pearl to scan the two of us,” Priyanka says to Doug from the driver’s seat.

“Sounds good,” he replies absently.

Then, violin music emanating from Connie’s circlet enters an unsettling crescendo.

“And Connie has something to show us, haven’t you?” Priyanka asks.

 _Father won’t approve,_ is Connie’s immediate though. “Yeah.”

Doug turns to look at her. “That’s nice. Is it a surprise?”

“Yeah, mother only knows a few details,” Connie says.

“I’m looking forward to it, then,” he says.

Connie returns to looking out of the window. _Oh no._


	59. Saturday Morning

It’s a sunny Saturday morning, and Steven eats his third helping of cereal on the deck. (It’s going to be his last bowl — consuming that much milk is starting to get a little nauseating.)

Inside he hears the temple door activate, and he looks inside to see Pearl emerge from the temple, deep in thought.

“Hi Pearl!” he calls through the screen windows.

“Hello, Steven,” she calls back and heads for the door to join him.

“Whachu thinking about?” Steven asks.

“It’s Peridot. She hasn’t been using the Warp network at all except once right after she trapped us in the old ship.”

Steven cocks his head. “Where did she go?”

Pearl manifests a hologram globe and highlights a spot on it. “To a pad in México. There’s a good chance she’s in North America as we speak.”

“So why don’t we go find her?”

“Because there’s only four of us, and North America is an enormous place — even if I narrow it down to the likely areas it will take us weeks…” Pearl looks out over the ocean. “Remember how I was gone for days searching for her?”

Steven nods. It was a tough few days.

Pearl steps up to the railing and rests her hands on it. “Garnet is already searching the future for signs of her, but that is only a few times faster than going out and looking for her. So for now, no Peridot.”

They admire the view together in silence for a little, as Steven scoops the last of his cereal out of the milk it’s swimming in before putting aside the bowl still a quarter full of milk.

“Connie is coming today.”

“Yeah. How is your training with Garnet going?”

Steven stands up and stretches. “She’s good at everything. Boxing, wrestling… Even shields!”

Pearl smirks and turns around to lean on the railing instead. “Amethyst is a better wrestler.”

Steven looks at her puzzled. “But— Garnet said that the kind of wrestling she does as Purple Puma is mostly showbiz and no ‘real fighting’.”

“You should have seen her in her heyday,” Pearl says, “Amethyst practically invented wrestling — she was always roughhousing and wanted to do it with humans.

“So she had to invent rules to minimize injuries — Rose wouldn’t have it otherwise. That was a long time ago, though.”

“How long?” Steven asks.

She scratches her hair. “Oh, buh, almost twenty-four centuries I guess? It was in what is Greece today.”

Steven ponders this new information. _Amethyst invented wrestling. And Pearl invented fencing…_ “Did Garnet ever invent a sport?”

“Yeah.”

“Which one?”

“Boxing… But she dislikes gloves. Spoiled the sport if you ask her.”

* * *

Garnet begins setting up for todays training. The usual: punching bags, training dummy, a ring in the sand (two, actually, but the other is for Pearl and Connie.) A new addition is a set of kettlebells, and a basket of tomatoes.

(Garnet went book-duplicating and came home with a stack of training manuals on crossfit. When asked about it she replied: “Books are nice.”)

The sun shade and refreshments are there too, but will soon be replaced by indoor activities. It is not exactly summer anymore.

“Garnet, do you know where Amethyst is? She’s been gone a few days.” Steven asks her.

“Chicago. She’ll be back in a few hours.” Garnet hammers a wooden beam into the sand in two blows. “We can call her if you want.”

Steven shrugs. “No, it’s just… What is she doing?”

“She’s… Making some friends, probably.”

* * *

Saturday morning means Saturday morning cartoons, and that means Crying Breakfast friends. Steven is interrupted in the middle of watching a re-run of one of the best episodes of the first season, by Connie and her parents arriving.

Pearl, reading yet another textbook (even though they all ought to have dissipated by now. the beach house is still home to several tomes.) She puts down her reading material and answers the door. Steven does his best to keep his attention on the show.

Connie comes up the stairs and plops down beside him. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Down below, he hears Connie’s parents talk with Pearl:

“What’s that you’re reading?” Doug asks.

“Just some research,” Pearl replies.

Steven knows for a fact that Pearl has been studying like her life depended on it; and that she is reading about the ethics of economics — whatever that means.

Five Clonnies come up the stairs and line up next to them. “Car’s unloaded,” one of them says. Without taking her eyes off the screen, Connie draws the wand and dematerializes all of them.

“… We’ll be receiving them in the mail within a few more business days…”

“Are we on for today?” Connie asks him quietly.

Steven nods. “Are your parents OK with it?”

Connie half-shrugs. “My father isn’t gonna like it — maybe. But my mother called like, half her colleagues over the week and, well, she’s sure I’m fine.”

“Connie? Steven?” Pearl calls up to them, “training time!”

Steven looks at Connie. “Ladies first?”

“Sure,” she says and gets up. She jumps off the loft, and lands in a roll on the floor below; picks up a gym bag, and goes into the small bathroom.

 _I hope they like us,_ Steven thinks. _Probably should also introduce dad to Stevonnie properly._ The episode ends and the outro starts playing. _Aw, I barely had time to appreciate that one… Maybe I could buy the box set?_

The door to the bathroom slides open, and Connie steps out in her black and red outfit. “Your turn, Steven,” she calls.

He grabs the bundle of training clothes — jersey and shorts and heads down the stairs. Both of Connie’s parents are looking at their smartphones, and Pearl is smiling, holding something behind her back, and looking right at him.

“What is it, Pearl?” Steven asks.

“Oh, I am so glad you asked.” She steps up to Steven, and from behind her narrow frame she draws a bundle of maroon cloth — thick cotton — and hands it to him.

He unfolds it. It’s a Gi. Deep red, and with a golden star on the breast and the belt — which is pink. Inside the bundle is a pair of blue trousers.

“Training clothes!” Steven exclaims and looks up at Pearl.

Pearl smiles proudly. “I did some sewing — it should be more rugged than a jersey. Do you like it?”

“It’s awesome!”


	60. Freestyle Heavyweight

Amethyst arrives on the warp to a beach house occupied by Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran, both buried in a laptop each. Doug sits by the window, occasionally looking out at his daughter training, Priyanka has taken to the sofa.

“Hello, you guys,” she greets.

“Hello, Amethyst,” Doug says. “The others are outside.”

Amethyst nods thoughtfully, stepping off the warp pad dais and into the beach house proper. “What brings you here?”

“Research,” Priyanka says and looks up. “Can you use the scanner?” she asks expectantly.

Amethyst shakes her head. “Nah, it’s a little above my pay grade — the best I can do is read the library; and badly. And to be honest, it’s nothing more than a really big book.”

Priyanka nods.

“You found a lot of money, I hear?” Doug asks.

Amethyst shrugs. “Does us a whole lot of good when we can’t make withdrawals, you know? But that’s gonna come soon.

“I’ve been out trying to get a feel for what the world is like the last few days; Pearl is reading all these books, and Garnet is doing future stuff… I figured someone’s gotta learn the lay of the land the old fashioned way.”

“That sounds nice,” Priyanka says absentmindedly.

“So, apparently drugs are illegal now,” Amethyst continues chipperly.

Doug looks up. “… I’m sorry, what?”

She vaults the counter into the kitchen, and opens the fridge. “Yeah, like, hashish, coca, opium…”

Doug cocks his head, then looks at Priyanka.

“They’re usually banned wiht good reason,” Priyanka says.

Amethyst shrugs. “I’ve been alive for all of recorded history; banning things don’t work.” she takes a can of grape soda and pops the tab.

Doug and Priyanka look at one another for a beat. Amethyst walks to the door crossing their line of sight, and exits. In her wake, a notable aroma of… _Incense_ … lingers.

* * *

The ramp down from the beach house makes for a neat separator between the two training areas — the starkly minimalist ring in the sand and nothing on Pearl’s side, and the more cluttered full-blown training area on Garnet’s side.

In the shelter of the escarpment provided by the ramp, Pearl and Connie sit across from one another, meditating. Amethyst wisely heads to Garnet and Steven.

The two — Garnet having shrunk to Steven’s size — are engaged in a grapple: Garnet has the upper hand, attempting to prevent Steven from kicking her off; but has ended up with his bent leg between them giving Steven ample leverage to throw her off. The sand around them is partially dug open to moister layers where particularly forceful footwork went down.

“Hey Amateurs,” Amethyst says.

Garnet snaps her head to look and Steven manages to connect with the sand and plants a heel in her stomach. With a shove, Garnet is thrown off and Steven rolls backwards over one shoulder into a crouch.

“Hi Amethyst,” he says panting.

Garnet rises, brushes sand off her knees and grows to full size. “Someone’s in a good mood,” she says with a warm smile. “Are you here to show us how it’s done?”

Amethyst takes a swig of her soda, then puts the can in the sand. With casual ease she stretches, dissolves into light, grows three feet — in height as well as width — and solidifies into Purple Puma sans mask and with much shorter hair. “I can take you to school, G-squad. You know I can.”

Steven thrusts both his fists in the air and hollers: “Wrestling match!”

Amethyst enters the ring and Steven hurries out, brushing sand off his clothes.

Garnet removes her glasses and with a concentrated expression shapeshifts her arms half again as big, and her hair down to half size. “Baseline strength, no further shapeshifting?” Garnet asks.

Amethyst nods. “And none of your future-vision tricks. Pálē rules… Well, except for the ring not being square.”

“Wait up, guys, Connie needs to see this!” Steven says and runs off.

* * *

After interrupting Pearl in some spiel about the finer points of the fool’s guard with his usual enthusiastic kind of outburst along the lines of: “Garnet and Amethyst are going to fight! You gotta see this!” they are ready for the match.

Pearl as referee, Steven and Connie ready to be amazed.

Inside the ring, the two shapeshifted heavyweights face one another, bent forward, ready to lunge.

“Normative pain responses, no finger-twisting,” Pearl says. “Two three points matches, and tiebreaker. Agreed?”

“Just like in the old days,” Garnet says with a cocky smile.

Amethyst cracks her knuckles in reply.

Pearl claps thrice, indicating the start of the match. And Garnet and Amethyst both immediately spring into motion — not into one another, but sideways, bobbing and weaving around one another.

Garnet takes the opening slap at Amethyst’s head, and is rewarded with a dodge and counter-slap. Another three slaps fly and land before a slap from Garnet is countered by Amethyst grabbing her arm and pulling Garnet off balance.

With a heave, Amethyst sends Garnet careening towards the ring edge, but Garnet grabs on to Amethyst’s arm and the momentum is channeled into a spin. Garnet is quick to land a resounding slap on Amethyst’s face, as Amethyst attempts to get a hold of her chin with her free hand. They struggle like so — attempting to pull or push with their interlocked arms, exchanging slaps, for a few seconds.

The point is decided when Amethyst, through the barrage of slaps directed at her head, finally catches on to Garnet’s chin and forces her head backwards. A shove and a leg sweep sends Garnet onto her back in the sand.

“Point to Amethyst,” Pearl says.

Amethyst stands back, and Garnet gets up. They return to the center of the ring, and take positions just out of each other’s reach. Pearl claps again, and they resume the cautious game of baiting one another into initiating full contact.

This time, the first slap by Amethyst is countered with Garnet lunging directly into and under her with a battle cry. Amethyst’s heels dig two groves in the sand, and she grabs hold around Garnet’s waist from above and attempts to swing her assailant sideways. Garnet resists and attempts a leg grab.

Letting Garnet take the advantage, Amethyst twists in the grip to avoid getting thrown on her back, and earns a headlock on Garnet, but gets pinned into the sand and gets her leg twisted up backwards. Intertwined in that mess of limbs, writhing back and forth in the sand, Garnet taps out after fifteen seconds.

Headlock beats a twisted hip as surely as rock beats scissors.

“Point to Amethyst.”

Amethyst lets up her death grip around Garnet’s neck, and they both get to their feet; Garnet rubbing her neck, Amethyst working out the kinks of her abused hip joint.

They take positions again, and Pearl claps.

This time, Amethyst goes on the offensive. She takes a hard slap directly to the jaw, rolls with it into a leg grab and lifts Garnet off her feet.

With a hair’s breadth to spare, Garnet manages to twist and lands shoulder-first in the sand. She shoves Amethyst hard in the neck and manages to twist her chest down into the sand.

Unbridled, Amethyst works her arms around Garnet’s waist and heaves Garnet clean out of the sand — a feat which would be easily accomplished if she was operating at her usual strength, but in this reduced form made all the more impressive. There, in a short moment, leaned backwards, trying to control a writhing Garnet, Amethyst manages to wink at Steven and Connie.

Then — and one can hardly believe that her face could turn any more purple — Amethyst drags Garnet step by slow step out of the ring. It’s not for a lack of trying on Garnet’s part as she hails slaps onto what parts of Amethyst she can reach.

Garnet manages to catch a foothold, Amethyst manages to sweep it. She gets a thumb jammed under Amethyst’s wrist, and Amethyst ‘bumps’ Garnet back into the sand.

Eight steps like that, and Amethyst lets herself fall on her behind, dragging Garnet bodily out of the ring, earning her the winning point.

“Amethyst wins the first round,” Pearl says smugly. It was a foregone conclusion and she has known it from the start.

“This is so rad,” Steven mutters.

* * *

A short breather and they take to the ring a second time: Garnet manages to win round two, three points to two. More and more it seems like fighting the Purple Puma for real is like fighting a piece of rubber.

The Amethyst takes the tiebreaker with three rapid points. No locks, no carries, only making Garnet bite the sand thrice, efficiently exploiting every opening and mistakes. It’s still a quarter as fast as any sword fight, but no less brutal.

“Last point and tiebreaker goes to Amethyst,” Pearl remarks dryly.

Amethyst lets go of Garnet’s thigh and stands, offering a hand. Garnet takes it and pulls herself to her feet.

“Consider yourself, schooled, G-squad,” Amethyst says and dissolves into light — returning to her usual proportions.

Garnet un-shifts her overly muscular frame, panting slightly as whatever magic Gems are made of replaces a very human exhaustion with unwavering, unnatural strength. “Impressive tactics,” she says and stretches her back.

“I try,” Amethyst replies with a mock-courtesy.

“Now, now you two,” Pearl says walking into the ring between them, “good sportsmanship, yes?”

Garnet puts a hand on her shoulder. “Always, Ref.” Amethyst puts her hand on Garnets.

“So, Steven, are you up for getting a new teacher?” Amethyst calls out to him coyly.

Garnet breaks in before Steven can answer. “Amethyst, the thing isn’t that teaching Steven wrestling is a problem…”

Amethyst looks at Steven and Connie. “It isn’t?”

“No. The problem is, Steven lacks fighting spirit.”

“I do?” Steven says.

“… I can believe that,” Connie says, looking at Steven.

Even in his new Gi completing a martial arts uniform to match her own, Steven looks every bit the guy who would wish his enemies a good weekend.

“Perhaps I could—” Pearl begins.

“No. Swordmanship wouldn’t suit Steven,” Garnet says, “wrestling is about subduing and controlling — without permanent injury. Swords are, to human eyes, for killing.”

Connie looks at the sheathed blade in her hand.

“And you have more integrity and discipline than me, or what?” Amethyst pipes up.

“I have more patience. Steven is a rascal on a _good_ day,” Garnet replies with a smile. “Training isn’t done, either, you two,” she says directed at Connie and Steven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of my unimaginably large buffer. I am like 89 words into Chapter 61, so it will take a while.


	61. You Fight When You Have To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one contains a pretty brutal fight-scene.

“Is it true, what Garnet says?” Connie asks while they walk up the slope to the beach house together, recovering from the grueling final workouts.

Steven shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe? I’m not _scared_ of fights or anything.”

They climb the stairs.

“But you are a bit of a softie,” Connie continues.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

She turns on the stairs to face Steven, and starts walking backwards up the steps without slowing. “You know how you can learn?”

Steven cocks his head.

“ _Stevonnie._ ”

* * *

A flash of pink light from outside on the deck gets Doug’s attention. Casually he looks out through the screen window and sees some older teenage figure stretching.

And then, for a beat, he looks back at his laptop. And then his curiosity registers what he _actually_ just saw and he looks back out to see this stranger opening the door to the beach house.

“Dear, there’s—”

The door opens and this dark skinned, eerily familiar beauty peeks in, looking at him and his wife in turn “Hi— Um. OK, wow I did not think this through… Anyway, we’re just going to prolong the training a little, OK?”

Priyanka and Doug both stare like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

“Who—” Doug begins.

“Stevonnie,” Stevonnie helpfully supplies.

Priyanka looks them over. The two training uniforms have merged into a strange hybrid — a maroon gi with the star emblem on one breast, tied with the red sash; together a pair of dark blue shorts; over a black unitard with a high collar.

Their hair is tied back into a massive, voluminous ponytail tied at the base and mid with two (long lost) blue ribbons.

“You’re… The fusion?” Priyanka mutters.

Stevonnie nods.

“Gosh, look at _you_ now,” Priyanka says with more conviction and the beginnings of a smile. Doug is completely speechless.

(In retrospect, the two will remember it being a bit like seeing one’s prospective future grandchildren.)

“ _This_ is the surprise?” Doug finally manages, with a barely contained note of horror masked in sternness.

“Yeah… Yeah it is. I mean, I told Dr. Mahesw— Parv— Mother? Hmm—” Stevonnie rubs their chin “— Connie told Priyanka this morning while you were in the basement.”

He stares, wrinkling his nose; she stares, rubbing her chin.

Stevonnie looks from one to the other, wringing their hands. “Uh, you’re kinda freaking me out a little.”

“Connie, this is inappropriate. Put an end to this nonsense,” Doug finally says.

“Hey, now—” Priyanka begins.

“Remember how those two— Pearl and Amethyst did? It was scandalously sensual,” Doug says and crosses his arms. “Call me a prude, but I don’t think our daughter should be engaging in that kind of thing. Steven is a good kid, but he shouldn’t be having this kind of relationship with you, Connie.”

Priyanka is just about to retort when Stevonnie holds up a hand. “First of all, I’m _Stevonnie_ , —” they begin ’— And second of all, Connie is totally of age to begin exploring her sexuality," they say in a calm tone.

“Fusion _isn’t_ sex; I’m made of a pretty educated duo, and they both know a good deal about what sex is and isn’t.

“Not to mention, reducing fusion to sex is unfair, as well of demeaning, to both _fusions_ , and _also_ couples. Like, these two little tykes have a lot of feelings for one another even if they don’t want to admit it. You’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that Connie has a boyfriend sooner or later.

“You’re her _dad_ … Don’t say stuff like this.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go do a thing, and it’s gonna take about half an hour more. Father, mother, it was nice meeting you.”

Stevonnie spins on one heel, ponytail whipping after them and strides out the door.

Priyanka crosses her arms with a smile and looks knowingly at her husband.

He looks back at her, thoroughly confused. “What?”

“I like that one.” she says.

* * *

They descend to the beach once again.

Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl are huddled around one another out in the firmer wet sand — Garnet with one hand on Pearl’s shoulder holding Amethyst’s hand with the other. Pearl, arms crossed, looking down, is talking quietly while Amethyst and Garnet listen intently.

Stevonnie hesitates to interrupt the private conversation. “… Hi guys.”

Pearl and Amethyst startle slightly at the intrusion.

“Stevonnie?” Pearl asks.

“Yeah, um. We— Um.” They gesture to themselves, “it’s for, um… Fighting spirit…”

Amethyst looks up and down the fusion. “Nice outfit, dude.”

“Thanks. Um,” Stevonnie begins. “Pearl, do you have a blunt training sword my size?”

Pearl closes her eyes and a bauble of light emerges from her Gem, unfolding into a lacquered wooden sword — straight-bladed but otherwise much like a Kenjutsu-practitioner might recognize. “What do you need it for?” She asks, handing it to Stevonnie, handle first.

With a step forward, Stevonnie accepts it and gives it a practiced swirl. “A shield, too if you will.”

Pearl produces a rectangular board of wood with leather straps. Primitive but effective, it covers Stevonnies left forearm nicely.

“OK, now what?” Amethyst asks. Garnet chuckles.  
“Yeah, I know you already know,” she scoffs. “Stevonnie?”

Stevonnie takes a deep breath. “This is gonna sound weird… Could you three… Fight me?”

* * *

“What?” Pearl says.

Stevonnie twirls the wooden sword nervously. “You know… Rough me up? Look: Steven needs to learn that sometimes you _have_ to fight, because _not_ fighting is _worse_.”

The three Gems nod in acknowledgment of this wisdom.

“So: you three give me a good beating while I try to defend myself best as I can,” Stevonnie finishes.

Garnet cracks her knuckles. “I like your thinking.”

“I’m game,” Amethyst says. “Pearl?”

“I—” Pearl begins, but pauses. “Well, I suppose I’ve subjected Connie to the same thing on occasion.”

Stevonnie takes a few steps back. “No broken bones, no lost teeth, please. Don’t know who might end up with those when I unfuse.”

Garnet nods. “Any last remarks?” she says with an evil smirk.

“Uh… Be gentle?” Stevonnie ventures. Amethyst smiles a wolfish grin and shakes her head. “No? OK,” Stevonnie whimpers. _Oh crud._

Garnet opens with a hay maker which Stevonnie easily blocks — yet the sheer impact force sends a nasty jolt into their arm. Then, with the striking hand, Garnet grabs onto the edge of the shield and forces it aside.

Too fast for Stevonnie to properly grasp it; still reeling from actually having asked the three most powerful beings on earth to give them a roughing up, Garnet plants her fist in their diaphragm.

Doubling over, Stevonnie manages to retreat a few steps. _Ow._

Then Pearl zips past Garnet and launches into a vicious hook kick. Narrowly, Stevonnie parries with the wooden sword and gets a sore palm to show for it.

From the blind spot created by the shield, Amethyst ducks in past their defenses and shoves Stevonnie — nothing like a proper wrestling attack which would put Sevonnie supine in the sand in a heartbeat, but it still pushes them further off balance still.

 _I’m going to eat dirt before this is over,_ Stevonnie thinks as their three assailants pull back, surrounding them. _Why did I think this was a good idea again?_

Just then, Pearl who has circled up behind them, lands a kidney shot. Stevonnie almost retches with the pain, stumbling forward directly into Amethyst who gives no quarter — landing a palm strike in Stevonnie’s solar plexus causing them to double over directly into an expertly executed headlock.

Held there, on their knees, Amethyst’s one strong arm wrapped around their neck, the other clenching into a fist; a very rude swear word passes through Stevonnie’s mind. Then Amethyst brings her fist down and Stevonnie clenches her jaw and twists best as they can in the hold, taking a heavy strike on the cheek. Amethyst raises her fist again, and then brings her knuckles down on Stevonnies scalp with an audible **_TOK!_**

“ _OW!_ ” they yell.

“Fight back!” Amethyst yells back and strikes again — **_TOK!_**

With renewed fervor, Stevonnie bites down on their resulting yelp of pain, and instead brings the corner of the shield directly into the place where the ulnar nerve would be in Amethyst’s elbow. With a grunt of pain the Gem loosens her grip a little, and Stevonnie slides their sword in between Amethyst’s legs, levering it between them, robbing her of her balance.

From that position of advantage Stevonnie plants a foot in the sand and _rises,_ twisting Amethyst off balance.

Only to be grabbed from behind, by the shoulder by Garnet. In a text-book-worthy, fluid motion, Garnet executes an over-the-shoulder throw. With super strength factored in, Stevonnie sails neatly into the surf, landing face down in six inches of water.

A stringing sensation presents itself in their knee — a cut from a sharp rock.

Stevonnie rises to their hands and knees. A very narrow foot lands a kick in their flank. They retch. Then that very same foot plants itself on their back hard enough to sting and applies and uncharacteristically great weight, forcing Stevonnie’s face closer and closer to the murky water.

“You really should fight back,” Pearl remarks from atop Stevonnie. “It’ll be easier that way. Less painful too. Although this is kind of fun, I guess.”

_Enough. You got yourself into this mess; now get yourself out. Or do we wait for Garnet to tell us to fight back too?_

Lifting their sword hand out of the water at the risk of being forced under, Stevonnie makes a sweep at Pearl’s leg. With a light jump out of the water, she dodges the attack leaving Stevonnie free to rise.

They don’t. Instead, Stevonnie rolls over onto their back in the water, swinging the shield. They clip Pearl’s foot mid-air and the Gem tumbles into the water with a splash.

In the blink of an eye, Stevonnie rolls to their feet and lunges onto Pearl. With a hiss, the wooden sword whistles through the air swinging off every droplet on it, and hits Pearl’s jaw with a **_CRACK_** , smashing her into the water.

A light splash is all the warning Stevonnie gets before Garnet plants a strike in Stevonnies _other_ kidney, sending them stumbling forward into the water.

With a spinning jump, Stevonnie retaliates with another sword-strike which Garnet nonchalantly parries with an angled arm, ducking and weaving a step closer. Stevonnie retaliates with a shield barge, but Garnet grabs hold of the edges, absorbs the shove, and twists.

In desperation, Stevonnie brings the pommel down into Garnet’s face. It lands, and Garnet’s glasses shatter. She stumbles back in surprise and Stevonnie ceases the opening with a leg sweep; which Garnet nimbly hops over, out of range.

There’s barely any time between when Stevonnie notices that Amethyst is gone, and when the shapeshifter bursts out of the shallow water behind them; as none other than Purple Puma.

Two arms, as thick as Stevonnie’s thighs grab them around the waist and deftly suplexes Stevonnie right back into the seawater. With a twist, the huge purple wrestler is on top of them, holding Stevonnie’s face under.

_Purple puma is a guy!_

Partially submerged, Stevonnie twists their lower body and coils a leg up, before planting a heel-kick directly into Amethyst’s nether regions. The effect is immediate if not as great as they had hoped for; and Stevonnie is able to sit up, gasping for breath.

Only to be slugged in the jaw by Pearl, whose jaw is angled wrong, one side of her face turning turquoise.

With one hand, Pearl pushes her jaw back into place. “Garnet, come back here they only broke your glasses!”

Struggling, Stevonnie rises, but is almost pulled off-balance when Pearl grabs hold of one of their arms. When Amethyst — still as Purple Puma — grabs hold of the other, Stevonnie realizes the situation.

Garnet wades into the water. Stevonnie struggles to free themselves as the inevitable beating draws close.

“Please, no more,” Stevonnie whimpers, going limp.

Pearl’s grip loosens marginally. With a burst of action, Stevonnie breaks free of Pearl’s hold and brings the pommel of the sword down on Amethyst’s fingers gripping the shield. Were it a human’s, they would be looking at shattered bones.

With the loss of a hand, Amethyst’s control is reduced enough for Stevonnie to knee her in the hip and twist free. Pearl attempts to counter, but Stevonnie dodges the punch and plants the edge of the shield in Pearl’s throat, sending the lighter Gem back into the waves.

“Nice one!” Amethyst quips, clutching her mangled fingers with her other hand.

Garnet goes for a roundhouse kick, and Stevonnie parries with the sword — which cracks from the impact. Undeterred, Garnet readies a heel-kick and Stevonnie braces behind their shield. The kick lands and the Shield cracks too.

Discarding both, Stevonnie engages Garnet hand-to-hand. In water to their knees, the two exchange blows and Garnet quickly gains the upper hand; laying down a beating on Stevonnie’s defenses, before ending the exchange with a heel-kick to their lower abdomen, sending Stevonnie into the water.

Stevonnie splashes down, back first, going under. The pain is debilitating and they thrash to get above the water again. A maroon hand comes down and grabs Stevonnie’s upper arm, and with a gentle pull, Garnet lifts them out of the water into the light.

“Enough now. You did good,” she says with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In other news: _Nightmare Hospital_ came out.
> 
> And like: did I nail Dr. Maheswaran's reaction to her daughter's activities pretty well back in chapter 6 _or what!_ *fist-pump*


	62. Lion, Lick Your Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Garnet sustained a pretty graphic eye-injury in the last chapter, just an FYI.

Stevonnie limps out of the surf, supported by Garnet; and the four go back up to the beach house where Priyanka and Doug are standing on the deck.

“Goodness me, what was _that!?_ ” Priyanka yells to them as soon as they are within earshot.

“That was psychological training! Nothing to worry about!” Garnet hollers back.

Amethyst’s hand is bright pink across two of her fingers, Pearl is turquoise on one side of her face and on her neck, Garnet’s visor is a mess.

Stevonnie is worse off by far, covered bruises — split lip, split brow, swollen eyelid, and skinned knuckles.

“Garnet, I don’t feel so good,” Stevonnie mutters.

“Shush, you’ll be allright,” Garnet replies softly. “Pearl, go get some healing water.”

“ _Sure,_ ” Pearl croaks.

“Oh man,” Amethyst giggles, “did they get your voice box?”

Pearl just shoots her a glare and trots off to the warp pad.

“Is she hurt?” Doug asks, reaching out for Stevonnie.

Garnet nods. “I kicked a bit too hard. And Stevonnie goes by ‘they’ if you please.” She guides Stevonnie over to the sofa and lets the soaked, sandy fusion collapse there.

“You injured her!” Priyanka hisses at Garnet.

“ _They_ will recover on their own in a few hours,” Garnet mutters, sitting down next to Stevonnie.

Stevonnie groans in pain.

“Stevonnie, I need you to stay fused. If you unfuse Connie might get hurt,” Garnet says quietly.

Stevonnie smiles weakly. “Got it.”

The warp pad pings and Pearl returns with a mason jar.

“You can’t—” Priyanka says, pointing to the jar. Pearl walks past her, unscrewing the lid. She crawls into the sofa on the other side of Stevonnie and holds the jar to their lips.

“ _Drink,_ ” she croaks.

* * *

Stevonnie falls asleep, curled up into a ball, clutching their belly. Wet, sandy, and smelling of salt and copper.

Pearl takes a seat — in lotus position — on the railing of the deck outside. Amethyst shifts back into her regular size and goes for a bar stool, Garnet stays in the sofa.

“That was over the line,” Doug finally says.

“It was Stevonnie’s idea in the first place,” Amethyst says and gives her middle finger a twist and a push. It gives an audible **_pop_**. “Ugh, my other ’nads still hurt from that kick.”

Garnet begins the delicate process of pulling fragments of her visor out of two of her eyeballs. “You’re the one who insists on packing when you’re wrestling,” she quips back.

“It adds realism, you know?”

Priyanka just looks on in mild horror as the two Gems deal with injuries that would be painful or incapacitating to humans as casually as removing wood splinters with tweezers. “Are you three OK?”

Amethyst chuckles. “I’ll be good in a minute or two. Garnet’s gonna take a little longer — eyes are tricky. Pearl might take an hour or two; she’s not good with injuries.

“We’re Gem warriors, doc. We’ve seen a lot worse than what _those two_ ” — she points a thumb at Stevonnie’s sleeping form — “can do. Even if we didn’t harden up at all.”

“To address your concerns, Mr. Maheswaran,” Garnet begins, “violence is unnatural, yes. The sad truth is: it’s necessary too. If this is what’s needed to get Steven combat-ready, then that’s what it takes. We can’t always protect him.”

“And what about Connie?” Doug asks.

“We’re thinking of making her an honorary member of the Crystal Gems,” Amethyst says.

“No we aren’t,” Garnet corrects.

Amethyst scoffs and rolls her eyes. “ _I_ am thinking it; happy?”

Garnet fixes her one good eye on Amethyst with a glare; then cracks a grin.

* * *

Sleep takes the pain away, in part; or maybe it’s the healing elixir. Stevonnie sleeps dreamlessly and their mind gently slides apart at some point after comfort reinstates itself. Steven and Connie return to the land of the waking and find that they’ve unfused.

With Connie as the big spoon.

Connie sits up and rubs her eyes — not accomplishing much more than getting sand in them. “Ow,” is the first thing she says. She looks around and finds her mother sitting in the sofa right next to them.

“You’ve were asleep for twenty minutes before you unfused,” Garnet says, leaning against the kitchen counter — visor restored, “you might still be sore. How do you feel?”

“Sore,” Connie says. She runs a hand through her hair, noticing that Stevonnie’s ponytail has transferred.

“Any lower abdominal pain?” Priyanka asks.

Connie shrugs. “Not any more than usual; you know I’m used to a _lot_ , mother.”

Steven sits up and attempts rubbing his eyes too to much the same result. “That was _really_ violent…” he mutters.

Priyanka continues: “Garnet told me your… Fused form… Might have had an abdominal hemorrhage. Any unusual sensations?”

Connie shrugs.

“You’ve been sick?” Steven asks her.

Connie looks at him. “What do you mean?”

He yawns. “Those stomach aches, with your… Aw, jeez,” he giggles and groans. “ _Ow._ Garnet, you do _not_ pull your punches.”

Garnet snickers and adjusts her glasses.

Priyanka cocks her head. “How do you know that Connie has PCOS?” she asks Steven.

“We must have remembered it as Stevonnie,” Connie muses. “That transfers the memories… I think. And I haven’t really been having symptoms for a good long while, mother.”

“That’s of course true,” Priyanka says.

“So— you can share memories?” Doug asks, he leans forward on the couch — sitting on the other side of Priyanka.

Connie nods. “It’s useful sometimes,” Steven says.

Ever so slowly Steven crawls to the edge of the sofa and stands up with painful slowness — literally. Connie follows suit, less impeded.

“Looks like I took the worst,” Steven says.

“Yeah. Sorry,” Connie replies.

Wordlessly they hold out a fist towards one another, to the befuddlement of everyone present… And go for a round of rock-paper-scissors.

After six ties, Connie finally beats scissors with rock. She pulls him into a quick hug — eliciting a groan of pain, and heads for the bathroom. Priyanka gets up and heads after her.

Steven looks over his training clothes — an ungodly mess; having taken the gash from the sharp rock, as well as most of the sand from the unfusing process.

“Are you OK, little man?” Amethyst asks.

“Yeah, mostly. Where’s Pearl?”

“Outside,” Garnet says, “still recovering.”

Steven nods, and falls silent again — thinking; unaware of the stares he’s gathering from Doug, Amethyst and Garnet. In the bathroom, the shower starts, and the muffled voices of Connie and her mother can be heard.

Amethyst clears her throat. “No, seriously, Steven. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, it’s just a lot to take in. Sorry about your hand, Amethyst.”

The purple gem leans back against the kitchen counter. “Eh; No biggie, had worse.”

“… And your eyes, Garnet.”

Garnet lifts up her glasses revealing her left eye cloven open in deep magenta, and winks with her right. “I’ll live.”

Steven limps over to the door and opens it, peeking outside at Pearl. “Sorry about your voice, Pearl.”

“’S fine,” she replies in a gravelly voice without moving from her lotus position; or even opening her eyes, let alone look at Steven.

He pushes the door closed again and leans against the wall.

“Is this… I don’t know, normal?” Doug asks. “Maybe Priyanka should look him over?”

Garnet shakes her head. “Steven has self-healing abilities,” she says.

Steven looks at her, with furrowed brow. “I have?.. Figures… Garnet, when am I going to stop hurting so dang much?”

“In an hour.”

Steven groans.

* * *

Doug goes back to researching, and Garnet begins carrying the training equipment in from the beach. It takes Steven a full minute to decide he’s not going to wait for his turn in the shower.

Priyanka briefly comes out of the bathroom to grab a first-aid kit from her handbag and pauses to look at Steven — still leaning on the wall next to the door, clutching his side and belly.

“Steven, dear; are you allright?”

He cracks a smile. “I’m fine, Dr. Maheswaran. I’ll be fine.”

“Well, if you need it, I have some analgesics— painkillers.”

Steven just nods, and gives her a thumbs up, and she ducks back into the bathroom — presumably to bandage whatever cuts and bruises Connie might have ended up with.

With a great deal of effort, he lumbers over into the kitchen and fumbles with the cupboards below the sink.

Amethyst sees his need, and vaults over the counter landing next to him. “Need any help?”

“Yeah, I need the mop bucket.”

She gives him a funny look. “What for?”

“I’m gonna go shower in mom’s room. It can do that right? I’d need some real water though…” He points weakly towards the temple.

Amethyst chuckles. “The temple has a water supply, Steven. It’s how we run your washing machine.”

“Oh,” Steven says and feels a little stupid.

Amethyst laughs. “Aw, look at you. Lemme give you a lift.”

With uncharacteristic gentleness, she lifts Steven off his feet, and carries him over to the temple door.

“This is _much_ easier than walking,” he mutters.

With a thought that is not quite easy to bring to mind, he **opens** the door, and the central star dissolves into the Rose emblem, swelling outwards until the gray material of the door is gone. The pink glare abates in favor of the familiar view of clouds.

Amethyst gently sets Steven down on his own two feet. “Want me to get you a change of clothes too?” she asks.

Steven nods and crosses the threshold.

* * *

“Room, I wish for the tiny-floating-whale-guide from last time.”

The small pink creature manifests with a diminutive poof.

Amethyst peeks in through the open portal with a set of Stevens usual clothes — blue jeans, pink star tee, white briefs, folded on top of a towel. Under one arm she holds bottles of shampoo, shower-gel, and conditioner.

“Here you go,” she says and holds out the stack of garments towards Steven.

Steven looks at it and mutters: “Room, I wish for a something Amethyst can put the clothes on.” A low wooden bench — which wouldn’t look out of place in a bath house — manifests itself next to Amethyst.

“That’s _really_ convenient,” she says and quickly puts down the items.

“Thanks, Amethyst. You’re really thoughtful,” Steven says and limps to the bench. Amethyst is quick to come to his aid, helping him get seated.

She pats him on the cheek. “That’s what family is for; right?” she says and plants a light peck on his forehead. “Remember to wash yourself behind the ears.”

Then she turns and leaves. The portal closes behind her, leaving Steven on a seemingly infinite featureless plane of clouds, with a tiny aquatic mammal for company.

“Whale, can I get a shower with real water?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one weekend; I am on fire!


	63. Mom

It takes Steven five minutes of trying to relieve himself of his training outfit before he remembers he can ask for help — and the nonspecificity of his request leads to the whale manifesting a pair of floating cartoonish white gloves.

The shower stall the room chooses to provide is a shower head almost a foot and a half wide; positioned over a section of slightly concave floor full of tiny holes — like standing on a colander.

When he complains over the lack of privacy, a rose-print shower curtain unfolds around him.

The water is warm, but not too warm. A small tray stand pops up off to one side before Steven can even ask for it, for the soap, shampoo and conditioner.

“This isn’t so bad,” Steven remarks to no one in particular.

Testing he takes a gulp of water — true to form, it doesn’t disappear. He gargles and spits, getting rid of the grime and lingering copper taste.

 _So, that is what fighting is like,_ he thinks. _To know you have to. That every other way out is worse._

Despite the warmth and steam, he shivers. _Connie knows what it’s like to fight…_

_How did she learn? Did someone beat her up like this?! If anyone hurt her I would— I’d what? I’d nothing._

Steven lathers the shampoo and rubs it into his unruly curls.

_And she has her real mom to worry and fuzz when she gets hurt._

It’s almost bittersweet — through Stevonnie he knows what it’s like, now. Really knowing, not just abstractly being aware.

He’s felt all the things Connie feels, and remembered all the things she does.

_I wish I’d known you, mom._

* * *

“Mom, I wish you’d—” Connie hisses.

The beach house bathroom isn’t big, but it is big enough for Priyanka to get on her daughter’s nerves.

“Yes, I know; you’re thirteen years old, et cetera. When I was just out to get the first aid kit, Steven looked like he might fall over…”

Connie winces as her mother applies an iodine soaked cotton swab to what remains of the rather gruesomely split eyebrow Stevonnie had wandered in with.

“I know you have a pain tolerance like I wish more of my patients had, so I really do need to check you over. Are you sure you’re not having any abdominal pain?”

Connie pulls the towel tighter around her bare shoulders — it’s not warm enough that underwear and moist skin can keep the cold at bay. “Yes, mom. Can I put on a shirt?”

“After I’ve checked you for bruising.”

* * *

“Whale?”

“Yes, Steven?” it answers from beyond the shower curtain.

He takes a deep breath of steamy air. “… What did mom do here, in her… _Our_ room?”

“Rose Quartz created this room as a control hub for the Temple’s structures. She has spent nine hundred and seventy-eight thousand, two hundred and twenty-one hours here.”

“Doing what?”

“Primarily research. As an authorized user, you have access to general information retrieval and archiving in all the library facilities in the Temple; as well as all surveillance systems. The full visualization and menial labor capabilities of this room itself are at your disposal to this end.”

Steven nods — the explanation is opaque, but the essence is clear: he can do almost anything here. “Give me an example of a useful thing the room can do?”

Steven is almost sure he hears the whale snicker, before it answers: “Assisting with personal hygiene.”

He looks up at the shower head above him, though the water. _Har, har._ “Yeah, I know that already. What else?”

“Taking diction; although it requires real paper if you wish to bring the produced text beyond the exit portal.”

Steven nods. “Mom had a library of biological things, right?”

“That is correct. It is accessible from here, with the full gamut of intended visualizations.”

 _So I could actually find out things here without Ameth— no. Nope. Ew._ “But there’s no scanner here, is there?”

“Scanners in this room are limited to common measurements,” the Whale answers in it’s usual enthusiastic tone.

It’s frustrating; a language barrier — although Steven doesn’t have that word to attach to the situation. _I need to know a lot more things,_ he thinks. “Turn the water off.”

* * *

“ _Ow!_ ” Connie yelps.

“That looks like the aftermath of a fractured rib,” he mother concludes.

Connie runs a hand over her back where Pearl stomped on them. There’s a distinct soreness there. “Can I get dressed now?”

“Yeah, go ahead. If a broken rib is the worst of it…” Priyanka says and stands back up, while Connie pulls on a black t-shirt.

“Mother, I’m _fine_ ,” Connie says.

“No, you are not; but I am glad you’re not worse off —” Priyanka bends to give her a quick hug “— I’ll give you some privacy now.”

The door opens and closes, and Connie catches her father asking her mother something — probably how badly she’s hurt.

 _I’m tough,_ Connie thinks as she looks in the mirror at the bruising around her split eyebrow. The healing water did a lot; but unlike time it hasn’t healed all wounds.

She pulls on the pair of jeans she chose that morning. _Mother knows best. Yeah, right,_ she thinks. _’tis but a scratch._

Looking in the mirror at herself a strange thing happens. Something _clicks_ and Connie sees just how much she takes after her mother; a thing most people would never see — being too familiar with their own visage to see it for what it is.

_Mother knows best. Better than no mom, though._

_Oh no. Poor Steven._

Barefoot and wet-haired she bolts from the small bathroom and into the common room.

“Connie?” her mother asks, surprised, from the sofa; and before she has the chance to ask what’s wrong, Connie hugs her .

Priyanka giggles. “What’s this about?”

“You’re the best mother one could ever hope for,” Connie says.

Priyanka smiles warmly, and wraps her arms around her daughter, reciprocating the hug. Doug smiles too, and reaches over and ruffles Connie’s hair.

“Aww~, that’s so sweet,” Amethyst coos quietly to herself.

* * *

After toweling his thick curls for a straight minute, Steven once again remembers where he is and asks for a hair dryer.

He pulls on his jeans, the t-shirt over his head and steps into his sandals. “Whale, thank you for your help.”

“No need to say thank you, Steven. This room is at your service always.”

He picks up the moist towel wrapped around the soaps. “Cease all constructs, please. Exit portal, please.”

With a quiet poof, there is once again nothing but pink clouds. The door manifests and Steven exits into the beach house once more, feeling substantially better.

He steps out into the outside world. Up on the loft Connie hears the temple door and jumps up from where she has been sitting, looking out the window, and runs to the edge. She jumps off, into a backwards flip; her feet strike the floor and she falls into a perfect roll — aided by the backwards rotational momentum to regulate the impact.

(Of course, Connie knows none of this in the heat of the moment, only what the circlet tells her can be safely done in it’s eerie subliminal language of subtle violin.)

She bounces up and runs around the warp pad up to Steven, who is mostly dumbfounded by her impromptu display of athletics.

“What—” is all he gets to say before she wraps him in a tight hug. “Connie? I… I guess I missed you too, but…”

She pulls away, almost as suddenly as she came and blushes, brushing a stand of hair behind her ear. In a quiet voice she speaks up: “Oh, I just— No, well… You never knew your mom, but I’ve always had mine, and Stevonnie remembered and…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s OK,” Steven says, with a bittersweet smile. “You’re lucky you have such a great mom.”

Connie puts a hand on his shoulder. “Oh Steven…”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m OK. I never knew her, you know? I can’t really be all that sad she’s gone.” He bends down and puts the towel on the floor, then stands back up and opens his arms. “Besides, it looks like you need a hug more than me.”

She does. It’s hard to know first hand what maternal love is, and then get a taste of its absence. Steven holds Connie tight and she can’t quite help shed a tear, while he pats her on the back.

“D’you wanna be Stevonnie again?” Steven finally asks, and pulls away a bit to look at her.

Connie nods and wipes her eye with a finger. “Yeah, I’d like that.”


	64. Good Questions, Bad Answers

Priyanka and Doug both have been looking at their daughter from the other end of the beach house, and now she and Steven take a few steps apart.

“Are they—” Doug begins.

“Yes,” Garnet says.

For a change, Connie and Steven dance, holding hands; Steven humming a little tune and Connie following her violins. Connie leads Steven into a spin and dips him low, they lock eyes and for once don’t burst into laughter. Then a pink glow envelops them.

“Oh gosh, I am _so_ hungry,” is the first thing Stevonnie says, clutching their stomach, and make a beeline for the kitchen.

(Amethyst, secretly enjoying Stevonnie’s happy accidents of fashion, is mildly disappointed that they were both wearing t-shirts and jeans.)

Priyanka and Doug both look on in mute surprise.

“Forgot the post-workout snack?” Amethyst asks, still sitting on the bar stool by the kitchen counter.

Stevonnie opens the fridge with one hand and a cupboard with the other, and begins putting a bagel sandwich together with all the speed expected of a hungry teenager.

Doug clears his throat. “Well, then…”

Stevonnie stops, and turns to look at Amethyst, then Connie’s parents in the sofa. “Uh, hi…” they say.

The silence stretches on a little past what is pleasant. “Awkward~” Amethyst sing-songs, helpfully breaking it.

Stevonnie clears their throat. “Yeah, so, neither of me had the bright idea to actually have a post-workout snack, so I’m eating for two. Can we save the whole figuring things out until I’m fed and watered?”

“Sure,” Priyanka says. “If there is anything to figure out…” she continues, directed at her husband.

He sighs. “I’m just a little… weirded out… by this whole ‘fusion’ business.”

Amethyst giggles. “Oh you have every right to be. Remember the first time we met and me, Pierogi and G-squad were all like attack-of-the fifty foot dinner guest?”

“Yeah,” Doug says and furrows his brow, “no offense but that — what was her name — Alexandria? She was very alien.”

“Alexandrite. And yeah, it’s not like we’re _literally_ space aliens or anything,” Amethyst replies and emphasizes with jazz hands before chortling at her own joke.

Stevonnie chows down greedily on a cream cheese-and-salmon bagel, holding another one ready in the off hand as if they’re eating on a timer. It’s the best cream cheese-and-salmon bagel they’ve ever had — hunger really is the best chef.

“I wonder about that…” Stevonnie says.

“About what?” Amethyst asks.

(Stevonnie knocks on their sternum, inwardly cursing the inadequacy of their esophageal peristalsis.)

“You’re space aliens — wouldn’t it stand to reason that you’d be more… Alien? That was something that bothered me about the sci-fi —”

“Stuff like that is due to limitations of special effects and budget, mainly,” Doug interjects.

Stevonnie shoots him a glare like the dirty Doylist he is and continues. “And like, I get why we Crystal Gems would be human-like; but even Jasper and Peridot were. What’s with that?”

Eagerly awaiting the answer, Stevonnie starts stuffing their face with the second bagel. Mouth full, they continue: “Anf fo tha matter, howed Jathper and Peridoff spheak Englich?”

“Uh…” Amethyst says. “Wow, I have _no_ idea. _Why didn’t I think of that?_ ” she says and jumps down from the stool, running for the door, out onto the deck where Pearl is meditating and Garnet is gazing off into the distance.

“Guys, why do we look like _humans?_ Aren’t we _aliens?_ ” Stevonnie, Priyanka and Doug hear from outside.

Priyanka looks from the door to Stevonnie. “Does this kind of thing happen often?”

“All fe time,” Stevonnie replies.

* * *

They are all gathered inside once again. Pearl’s throat is still bluish and her voice sounds like she has a massive blob of flegm stuck in her throat: “To be honest, I don’t know. I’ve given it a fair amount of thought, but it is a deep mystery. Much like there are unanswered questions — maybe even unanswerable ones — about how life on Earth evolved over the eons.

“Gems are an odd one out. If the history books I read back in the day are correct, then we have found naturally arising life on a good few other worlds; life made of organic chemistry much like here on Earth.

“But Gems are unlike naturally arising life in a lot of ways — we are not chemical, but magical crystal instead. Rose once confided in me that Humanity and Gemkind were intertwined by the threads of fate, but to this day she never once has let me know what she meant.”

Stevonnie, now partway through their third bagel (this one with mayo, cheese singles and salad,) stops in the middle of a chewing motion. “Thatf id?”

“Oh, could you please not speak with your mouth full?” Priyanka snaps.

“Thorry,” Stevonnie meekly peeps and chews in silence. They swallow, and continue: “That’s it? You don’t know?”

Pearl sighs. “No, I don’t… Sorry to disapoint; although… Rose might have some personal notes, she left behind but I don’t have access to them — she kept secrets, even from me.”

Stevonnie’s eyes light up. “The _room!_ Mom’s room, it said it has access to every library in the temple!”

Pearl looks up. “Really?” — her face lights up — “then it stands to reason she would give Steven the requisite privileges! This is _great!_ Maybe we can get answers to… Well, anyway; Stevonnie, would you have anything against—”

“I don’t think that’s wise,” Doug interrupts.

Pearl looks at him, confused for a beat. “ _What?_

He adjusts his glasses. “From what I can gather: you, Pearl, were Rose Quartz’s right-hand woman, yes?”

Pearl nods.

“And all of you —” he gestures to the three Gems “— were her closest companions for multiple millennia, and yet there was things she didn’t tell you.

“Now, I’m just a security consultant; I don’t know much about wars, magic, or aliens, but I do know a thing or two about secrets. First: the most important part of a secret is that a secret _exists_.

“Second: people keep secrets for good reasons. I can only imagine what would compel an immortal magical space-queen-lady-of-war to keep secrets from her most trusted confidantes, but I’d wager a thousand dollars it’s _not_ trivialities.”

Stevonnie stops chewing and looks at Pearl. The Gem’s face is the image of internal conflict.

“Pearl, I think he has a point,” Amethyst says. “I think we should wait just a bit before we go off digging up Rose’s diary and stuff.”

Pearl’s brow furrows further, and she makes a noise in-between a growl and a groan.

Amethyst shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “Garnet, help me out here.”

Garnet puts a hand on Pearl’s shoulder. “Pearl, you should calm down. Whatever Rose may have kept secret, it’s records are not going to disappear. You know how the temple works better than me or Amethyst.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Pearl says and sighs. She slumps in her seat.

Doug clears his throat. “Can I ask — I’m just trying to gage what kind of stuff we’re dealing with. Did Rose tell any of you something and ask that you keep it secret from each other?”

Stevonnie quickly chews and swallows. “There was the armory!”

“Yes. Rose had a secret armory and training-grounds complex,” Pearl says. “She showed me and asked that I kept it to myself — but that was before the Wars. There was a couple of administrative minutiae too…”

“Due to my abilities, I habitually come to know confidential things,” Garnet supplies, “so I keep a lot of secrets.”

Amethyst shrugs. “I dunno, when it was just the four of us; we didn’t really keep secrets. But then again there’s curve-balls like Lion.”

Doug cocks his head. “Steven’s pet?”

“Yeah. None of us even knew he existed before he showed up a little over a year ago,” Amethyst says, “and, well…”

“Steven,” Pearl says. “She must have been researching how to create Steven for a long time too.”

Stevonnie, halfway though their third bagel, suddenly doesn’t feel all that hungry anymore.

Doug nods with a serious expression on his face. “So, she might be keeping even bigger secrets — that’s worrying in and of itself; but am I correct in my assesment that she mostly did it to spare your feelings?”

Garnet nods.

“That’s good.” He stands up and walks over to the door, looking through the screen. “How willing would you be to forgive Rose Quartz if it turns out she did something truly horrible?”

The hesitation of the three Gems is all the answer he needs.

“Then I don’t think you should seek out her records in search of answers. Not immediately anyway.”

* * *

The mood in the beach house is well and thoroughly dead.

Garnet is the first to break the silence. “How is the plan looking?” she says and goes to take a seat next to Priyanka.

“Right, uh,” Priyanka says, “I think we have a good starting point… Although… How far ahead does your future sight reach?”

Stevonnie tunes out to the further discussion of investment strategies and how to legally bamboozle casinos out of big bucks with magic. No, there are more important things.

Like comforting Pearl. They catch Amethyst’s attention and gives a nod towards Pearl who has taken a seat, looking out the window. Amethyst hops down from the bar stool and goes to her; sitting down next to Pearl. She puts an arm around Pearl and Pearl leans her head on Amethyst’s.

Stevonnie hesitates for a second before following. They sit down on the other side of Pearl, back against the window, and takes Pearl’s hand.

“You’re going to be allright, Pearl,” they say.

Pearl smiles sadly. “I _am_ all right, Stevonnie. I just had my hopes dashed, is all.”

Stevonnie looks down. “It’s OK to not be all right, too though. I’ll look into it for all of us — I can handle whatever dark secrets mom might have; I never got to know her…

“Besides, if I — if Steven needs to take on the mantle, we need to get a lot better at keeping secrets too.”

Pearl looks up at that and puts a hand on Stevonnie’s cheek. “Listen, Stevonnie. It’s not yours — not Steven’s responsibility to be our replacement for Rose. It’s _us_ that need to change, if anyone. Go have some fun, OK?”

“Yeah, we’ll hold up the gloomy fort,” Amethyst adds.

Stevonnie nods and stands up. They head over to the other sofa, where Priyanka, Doug and Garnet are hunched over Priyanka’s laptop, watching a video about playing the Roulette.

“Mother, Father, I…” they begin.

Priyanka and Doug both look up.

Stevonnie fidgets. “Um, can I call you that? If you’re not comfortable with it I—”

“It’s quite all right,” Priyanka reassures them.

“OK, um. Mother, Father, I’m going to go out for a little. I need to clear my head and maybe talk to Dad — Greg. Mr. Universe,” they say.

Priyanka holds a hand out towards them, and they hesitantly take it. She runs her thumb across their knuckles, a small caress. “It’s fine, dear. Take care of yourself, OK?”

Stevonnie nods, and smiles. “Yes, mother.” Then they turn and head out the door.

Doug looks at his wife.

“What?” she says. “It’s our daughter. Why should I act any differently?”

He shrugs and shakes his head. “I’m still getting used to it.


	65. Dear Old Dad

Stevonnie heads to the big donut — Steven’s go-to pick-me-up. It’s not particularly cold out, but it is not particularly warm either, and a t-shirt would be inadequate in any other case. (It’s not like any of Steven or Connie’s overcoats would fit — Stevonnie towers over both their components.)

But for some reason the cold doesn’t bother Stevonnie. Maybe if it was windy and rainy they would have a problem, but for a big strong fusion a bit of early autumn chill is nothing to sneeze for. Their remaining injuries slow their pace, though.

 _What if mom_ did _do something horrible? Could_ I _forgive her?_

 _It was strange that those ribbons suddenly came again. She missed them for her sun dress. It’s a nice sundress,_ they think, idly looking over the ocean glinting in the sunlight. They take a deep breath of the crisp ocean air — so very different from the city air Connie is used to.

They reach the big donut, and one last train of thought presents itself — an innocuous question.

The bell on the door jingles, interrupting Lars and Sadie having a quiet conversation — Lars leaning on the counter, with his back turned.

“Oh, Stevonnie, hi!” Sadie says with some enthusiasm.

Lars turns around hastily. “How can we help you?”

“Hey you,” Stevonnie says with a tired smile.

Sadie cocks her head. “Are you OK?”

Stevonnie trudges up to the counter. “Beat up from training, got a lot on my mind. Half dozen donuts, please.”

Lars grabs a paper bag and a plastic glove. “What kind?”

“Surprise me,” they say.

Lars doesn’t. Instead he stops, reaching for the first donut, fixated on something outside. “Isn’t that your pet or something?” he asks.

Stevonnie turns to look. It’s Lion, breathing two plumes of fog on the glass door through its nostrils.

“He can come in if he wants to,” Sadie says.

Stevonnie looks at the big pink loiterer and gets an idea. “Lion, you gotta push the door to open it,” they call out.

Lion cocks its head, then sniffs the push-plate on the door. After a moment of consideration, it testingly pushes on the door with a paw, opening it a little, making the bell jingle. The sound appears to startle the fearsome apex predator.

Repeating the attempt, this time Lion shoves its head in, preventing the door from closing. Stuck there, it gives an annoyed grunt, before forcing through and into the donut shop.

“Good boy!” Stevonnie says.

Lion shakes its head, sneezes (eliciting a giggle from Sadie,) and goes straight over to the Lion Licker freezer, pressing its forehead against it.

Stevonnie pinches the bridge of their nose and sighs. “Lion, Lion Lickers are terrible. And probably bad for you too.”

Lars starts ringing up their purchase. “Maybe you should let that thing have one?”

Stevonnie looks at him as if he suggested something far more outlandish. “ _Why?_ It’s overpriced garbage. If he likes them, then first of all he’s wrong, and second of all I’ll have to buy them all the time to make him happy!”

“He might hate them, though?” Sadie suggests.

Stevonnie groans — first in exasperation, then again in pain when their injured rib complains. “OK, fine. One Lion Licker please.”

With contempt for the frozen treat emanating from them, Stevonnie pushes Lion aside, opens the freezer and takes out a Lion Licker. Wrinkling their nose, they unpack it and waves it in front of Lion’s snout.

Lion sniffs once, then starts licking the popsickle with its sandpaper tongue. After a few licks, Lion gobbles the whole thing up in one mouthful — chewing once and swallowing.

Stevonnie shakes their head in disgust. “You like it? Ugh.”

Lion licks its snout in satisfaction, then suddenly grimaces, cocking its head to one side, pupils shrinking to hair slits.

“Brain freeze?” Stevonnie chuckles, “Serves you right, you greedy animal.”

Sadie chuckles.

“Anyway, that’s seven dollars forty-eight,” Lars says.

“Novelty ice cream is expensive,” Stevonnie says, digging through their pockets for bills and change.

“Yeah,” Sadie concurs, “I remember Steven would buy Cookie Cats all the time.”

Sevonnie hands Lars a handful of bills and coins. “Don’t remind me; I— Steven still gets sullen every time he remembers that they don’t make them anymore.” Wistfully they clutch the paper bag of donuts — at first in jest, with a smile, then the gesture becomes earnest and Stevonnie ceases smiling.

“Are you sure you’re OK?” Sadie asks.

Stevonnie sighs. “I’m not. You remember that video, right? With Steven’s mom?”

Lars looks at Sadie, confused.

“Yeah, I do. She seemed very nice. Greg was a lucky man,” she says.

Stevonnie nods sagely. “Today I happened upon the idea that she might have done some really bad stuff in the past.”

“Like what?” Lars asks. “Crime or something?”

Stevonnie shrugs. “Anything is possible. She was an immortal alien queen, more or less; and fought two wars. She has killed people — and I knew that already in the abstract at least. What’s worse than killing people in a war?”

Sadie and Lars share a look of uncertainty.

“I guess there’s lots of things more messed up than that, really,” Lars says. “Like torture, or genocides, or oppression.”

“Lars!” Sadie hisses.

Lars holds up both hands in a defensive gesture. “What? I’m saying it like it is!”

“Yeah, you always do about this— but Stevonnie is Steven and Connie. Not in front of the kids, Lars!” Sadie says, jabbing a finger at him.

Stevonnie giggles

“What?” Lars asks.

“Nothing,” they say. “I mean, you’re right. And that’s what I’m afraid of. But you two bicker like a married couple. When are you going to admit to liking one another?”

Sadie and Lars look at them for a beat, then both start chuckling.

“What?” Stevonnie asks, befuddled by their reaction.

“We kind of started dating a month ago. We’re keeping it on the down low for now,” Sadie says.

Stevonnie looks from Sadie to Lars, then back again, with a growing smile.

One almost expect a high-pitched whine to escape them. Instead, they sputter: “What’s it like?”

Which catches both Sadie and Lars off guard.

“Wh— What do you mean?” Sadie asks.

“I—” Stevonnie blushes. “No… Look— It’s complicated, forget I said anything.”

“Now I’m getting curious,” Lars says.

Sadie jabs him playfully on the arm. “Be nice.”

“It’s— It’s Steven and Connie,” Stevonnie says. “I’m trying to figure out if—”

“Aww~,” Lars coos.

“Don’t mock it, Lars. Steven’s what? twelve years old?” Sadie says.

Lars takes a step back, out of reach of his girlfriend’s jabs. “I’m not, I swear. I think it’s kind of cute, in an identity-deconstructing existential horror-kind-of-way.”

Sadie glares at him.

He clears his throat. “Look, Stevonnie, if you want to have an in-depth philosophical discussion about love, go talk to Buck, Sour Cream or Jenny. Those three have some serious wisdom.”

“Yeah, we’re kind of new to this whole thing,” Sadie says.

Stevonnie nods. “Thanks… And congratulations, I guess.”

* * *

With their spirits lifted, Stevonnie leaves the Big Donut behind in the company of Lion.

(Turning to sneak a peek at just the right moment, they see Sadie and Lars kiss.)

But compersive glee can’t melt doubting hearts. Stevonnie heads for the car wash, clutching the donut bag to their chest.

 _I’ve never actually introduced myself to Dad,_ they think. _I’m sure he’ll like me, though._

They walk down the main street — a bit of a detour, but the sun and the sparse traffic is in and of itself a pick-me-up; people are always fascinating to look at.

Stevonnie notices a guy on a scooter — black leather jacket, blue scarf, clear visor. He comes rushing down on the other side of the road and their eyes meet for an instant of recognition before he continues on.

Kevin.

 _What is_ he _doing here?_ they think, looking after him.

* * *

In the afternoon sun, Greg has taken refuge in the shade of the car wash with a small folding table and a chair (he’s had his share of sunburns this season.)

There he sits in jeans and a sweater, drumming his fingers, pondering away.

“Hi,” Stevonnie says timidly.

He looks up. “Oh! It’s you… Um, hello?”

“Can I sit?”

“Sure, let me get you the other seat,” he says, gets up, and goes for the other chair in the back of the van. “You look like you have something on your mind?”

“Yeah,” they say. “I brought donuts too.”

Greg unfolds the chair and puts it up the wall on the other side of the table, mirroring his own. Stevonnie puts the bag of donuts down.

“I’m Stevonnie.”

Greg nods and sits back down. “That’s… A pretty good name. Who came up with that?” he asks.

“Amethyst,” they reply and take the other seat. “Did mom ever— ever express sentiments hinting at the possibility that she might have done something… Really bad?”

Greg looks at them, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s— earlier my father— Doug— Mr. Maheswaran…” Stevonie shakes their head. “OK, pronouns. You’re Dad, Rose was Mom, Priyanka is Mother, Doug is Father.”

“Capisce,” Greg says, “continue.”

Stevonnie opens the paper bag and takes a donut with chocolate glaze, then offers the bag to Greg. “Mother and father and Connie came by today for some of that financial planning thing for when the Gems get their Social Security numbers, and so Connie could train swordfighting.

“After training we talked a little with the Gems about Steven’s training and how he’s not very good at the psychological aspects of fighting, so we fused and… Connie’s really good at fighting. She knows to fight when she has to. So we got the idea that I could teach him that.”

“Because fusion can transfer memories and sometimes skills,” Greg interjects.

Stevonnie looks at him, quizzically. “Yeah, how did you know?”

“Your mom and I knew each other for over a decade, schtoo-ball,” he says with a shrug. “We got around to every relevant topic eventually.”

Stevonnie continues. “So anyway— I got the Gems to beat me up, basically.”

Greg almost chokes on his donut. “Wow, what? Are you OK?”

Stevonnie sticks out their tongue and points to it. “— Healing powers.”

“Right…” Greg says and sits back, slightly relieved. “Did it hurt?”

“Yeah. Garnet hurt me pretty bad, but I’m OK now. Anyway, I fell asleep and unfused. Then because Connie took the bathroom, Steven took a shower in Mom’s room and got some ideas talking to— actually that’s not really important, and I’m rambling…”

Greg reaches over and puts a hand on Stevonnie’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s OK.”

“I miss mom. Cause— I have my mother, but no mom.”

A tear rolls down Stevonnies cheek, they wipe it away with a thumb.

“Hey~,” Greg coos, “It’s OK kiddo…”

Stevonnie sniffs and shakes their head. “Yeah, and that’s not even— It’s not even the upsetting bit, I just get misty when I think about it. It’s Connie, mostly. No; I got the idea to use mom’s room to see if she left a diary.

“She’s done a lot of research or something, and there’s probably a lot of things she never told anyone, right?”

Greg nods sagely. “She considered me barely knowing her a good thing, once.”

Stevonie clears their throat. “Anyway, I thought maybe we could get some answers that way, and then father says this scary thing. He thinks that maybe she kept things secret because if we found out we would… We wouldn’t like her anymore.”

“Hm,” Greg says and takes another bite of his donut. “That’s quite a conundrum.”

“Yeah,” Stevonnie concurs and looks at their donut. It’s not very appetizing at the moment.

Greg takes a deep breath. “Look, the way I see it; Rose keeping bad things secret— She did it to protect us. And that might sound like a cop-out; but Rose _could_ protect us. She was… _Powerful._

“I don’t know much about magic stuff, but Rose was stronger and faster than Garnet, smarter and more graceful than Pearl, and tougher and a better shapeshifter than Amethyst.”

Stevonnie nods, eyes widening — that’s no faint praise.

“She did things like study life on Earth for thousands of years, and fighting two wars over it, and build all these wonders of magic and technology — buildings, shrines, weapons…”

“And now she’s gone,” Stevonnie finishes.

Greg shifts in his seat. “Yeah, well… I think she chose that. Somehow.”

“What?”

“She was…” he clears his throat. “She was hurt. Seeing all her friends, save three die? She never really got over that. Kept it hidden from the others, but she… She didn’t keep it hidden from me.”

Now it’s Greg’s turn to wipe away a tear. “I wish I could have helped her.”

Stevonnie reaches over and puts a hand on his shoulder. “… I think, in a way, you did.”

“Yeah. It’s not all bad,” he continues. “I got the world’s best son out of it,” he says and looks at Stevonnie.

They smile. “Do you want a moment with your world’s best son?”

“He’s here, in you. That’s good enough for me,” Greg says with a smile. “Thanks for the offer.”

Stevonnie leans back in the flimsy chair. “I wish my father was as good at the whole fusion thing as you are.”

Greg shrugs. “He’s a smart guy, he’ll come around,” he says and reaches for the donuts. He looks inside the bag — he’s had one, and Stevonnie’s barely touched theirs. “Strange how one thinks one needs more donuts for the heavy topics, right? Got anything else that’s bothering you?”

“Yeah, um…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a while — I wrote almost an entire chapter which I ended up scrapping. Also made it extra long since it's been a while.


	66. Made of Love

Stevonnie looks down. “I don’t know how to put this…”

“Take your time, kiddo.”

“I’ve been thinking; and it’s a fusion thing, but also kind of not… I think Steven and Connie might be in love. But they aren’t sure — you know?”

Greg nods appreciatively. “That’s not really news to me, but it’s good they’re— you’re? realizing it.”

“That’s the thing, though. They have this reluctance—” Stevonnie wrings their hands “— and it’s awkward for me to work through it, for obvious reasons.”

Greg chuckles a little at the thought of anything to do with both magic and relationships at once being ‘obvious.’

“What did you mean that it’s not news to you?”

Greg straightens himself in his seat. “It’s one of the perks of having seen a little bit of everything, some things you just know when you see it.” He smiles. “Besides, how could I _not_ notice my son had a little romance going on?”

“Yeah, OK,” Stevonnie says, “That does make a lot of sense; but it still doesn’t answer my question. How do I, know if— if I’m made of love?”

Greg sighs. “Goodness, you’re really lay down the tough questions on me today.”

“Sorry,” they mutter.

“No, no, it’s not like that,” he hurriedly assures. “I’m happy to help. Especially in matters of the heart. And that right there would make a good song title.”

Stevonnie snorts at the joke.

Greg chuckles and turns in his seat towards Stevonnie, putting his hands on the table.

“The most important thing I know about romance is that there’re two ‘kinds’ of love. In the beginning,” — he holds up a finger — “you are infatuated — it’s a rollercoaster ride where every moment with the one you love is sweet heaven, and every moment apart is a fresh hell.”

Stevonnie’s eyes widen. “Really?”

“I’m dramatizing,” Greg says with a handwave and a big smile. “Infatuation is the thing we call ‘falling in love.’ It doesn’t even have to be mutual —” he stands “— You can pine away for someone who doesn’t know you exist!”

Striking a pose, he continues: “People have lived and died in and for these throes of passion. Romeo and Juliet, Simon and Nia, Shu Lien and Li Mubai!”

Stevonnie laughs with him.

Greg himself chuckles and stands at ease. “But you know, that’s only half of what being in love is about. Try as they might, people aren’t infatuated — madly in love — for more than half a year, give or take. After that, either the love goes away or becomes something else.”

“And what’s that?”

“Deep affection. Devotion. Mutual admiration. The rollercoaster ride stops and you get off together and spend the evening walking through the amusement park, looking at all the pretty lights,” Greg sighs. “If you can make that work? That’ll hold a long time.”

Stevonnie just looks at Greg, starstruck.

“I’m just a poet, though,” he says and takes his seat.

“You’re a really good poet, dad.”

“Aw, shucks,” he giggles. “You charmer. Anyway. Steven and Connie sitting in a tree…”

Stevonnie snorts. “Oh no, you don’t.”

Greg chuckles. “I won’t. But let’s see… When you’re in love, you kind of think about each other all the time. You don’t do that, do you?”

“When do we ever _not,_ ” Stevonnie says and slumps back in their seat, exasperated.

Greg nods, mock-sagely. “How about— when you think about each other you just can’t do anything at all?”

“ _Connie_ ,” Stevonnie immediately says, “oh gosh, my girl.”

“What else… Overcoming adversity together and being closer afterwards?”

Stevonnie nods emphatically.

“You’re hitting an awful lot of the sure signs, I’d say.” He starts counting on his fingers “Willing to do anything for each other?” — a nod — “wishing you could hang out all the time” — a very empathic nod — “hoping with all your heart you’ll be together forever…”

“Yeah, definitely,” they say.

Greg reaches for another donut. “That’s love, Stevonnie. Congratulations.”

Stevonnie smiles sheepishly at the realization. That is one heck of a pick-me-up.

* * *

With a spring in their step and a song in their heart, Stevonnie bids their dad adieu and takes to wandering the streets once more.

 _I’m made of love,_ they think.

_I’m made of love. Oh gosh._

_I’m made of love._

(If this scene was some sort of musical TV show, now would be the perfect time for something involving a coordinated choreography of random pedestrians.)

Instead, Stevonnie skips along, swinging about signposts and walking tightrope on the curbs. When that proves insufficient, they do a cartwheel-handspring-somersault display — as if a six foot six androgyne beauty with massive, perfect hair didn’t draw enough attention.

_People are looking, and I don’t mind. I’m made of love._

Wandering in their own thoughts, Stevonnie strays out of the town proper, up past the water tower.

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

Stevonnie stops mid-step and looks for the speaker.

Behind an ironwork fence, in a neat front yard stands Jenny Pizza; red pants, red shirt, red leather jacket.

“Hi Jenny… Yeah, I am happy,” they say and walk up to the fence.

She smiles. “Whatcha happy about?”

“Love,” they answer proudly.

“Oh, that’s _great!_ Who’s the lucky guy or gal?” Jenny asks elatedly.

Stevonnie stumbles over the question for a moment before realizing the mistake. “It’s not—” Stevonnie gestures to themselves. “I’m a fusion. I’m made of love.”

Jenny stares for a beat then shakes her head. “I don’t get it.”

“Steven and Connie?” they try.

“What about them?” she asks.

“ _They_ are the ones in love. I’m the physical manifestation of that relationship.”

The realization dawns on Jenny. “ _Oh!_ Well, isn’t that cute!”

Stevonnie almost winces — there’s something about the tone talking about being made of love that way which…

Stevonnie looks at the property behind the fence. It’s a larger house with a pretty neat garden. “Do you live here?” they ask.

“ _Hah,_ I wish! No, it’s Buck’s place. His dad’s outta town. Wanna join us and hang out?” Jenny points towards the entrance to what is presumably the back yard.

Stevonnie runs a hand over the wrought iron fence. “Sure is a fancy house.”

Jenny cocks her head to the side. “Hey, Stevonnie, if you don’t wanna hang out, you can just says so. OK? It’s always OK if you don’t feel like it.”

 _I don’t feel like it, but why?_ they ponder. “Is it just you and Buck?”

“And Sour Cream and one of his friends from out of town.”

Stevonnie glances over at the driveway and spots a familiar scooter. “Kevin?”

“How did you know? Do you have beef with Kevin or something?” she asks, suprised. “You seem put off by the idea.”

Stevonnie nods. “He’s kind of a creep. I met him at that rave last year, remember?”

“ _Oh_ , right,” Jenny says, with no small measure of amazed recognition. “How did I forget?”

Stevonnie continues. “He spent the whole time I was there trying to get me to dance with him. Said to me, and I quote: ‘we’re angels, walking amongst garbage people,’ which is both rude and also…”

Jenny’s eyes have gone wide as saucers.

“Sorry,” they add. “I’ve got a case of motor mouth today.”

Jenny shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. Kevin did that? I oughta have words with him. Anyway, he’s here because we’re playing matchmaker.”

Stevonnie raises an eyebrow. “You’re what now?”

Jenny nods enthusiastically. “Me, Buck, Sour Cream. We’re setting people up. Did you hear Lars and Sadie got together?”

“Yeah, like, _today_ …”

“Lars wants to hang around us cause he thinks we cool,” Jenny begins, “At first we thought he might have a crush on me or something, but he’s fairly genuine. And him and Sadie just couldn’t get it together and get together, so we made a plan and Buck talked to Lars and I talked to Sadie— it’s like a romance movie when it all comes together.”

Stevonnie gives a low whistle. “Wow. Lars wasn’t kidding when he said you knew a lot about love.”

“Hell yeah, girl. You gotta when you have a triad.”

“Triad?”

Jenny smiles a knowing smile. “Me, Buck, Creamy, ever wonder why we always are together?”

The penny drops. “No way,” Stevonnie says, “what about Buck and Sour Cream, are they…?”

Before Jenny can answer, Sour Cream peeks out, sees them and jogs over in his usual over-sized zip-off pants. “Hello, you two,” he says.

Jenny slings an arm around his waist and leans in to kiss him on the cheek. “Yeah, you’re crazy about Buck, aren’t you, Creamy?”

Sour Cream nods solemnly.

Stevonni just stands there on the other side of the fence, mouth ajar. “You _three?_ ”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Sour Cream says, “It’s all the rage this year up in the Charm City underground. We started out joking about it, but that was eight months ago.”

“Anyway,” Jenny says, “Kevin’s here ’cause we’re gonna try to set him up.”

Stevonnie does a mental inventory of ‘acquaintances compatible with Kevin’ and comes up blank. “With _who?_ ”

“Jamie.”

Stevonnie sputters. “B—B—But Jamie is such a nice guy?! Why would you do that to him?!”

Sour Cream and Jenny look at one another. “Kevin creepered up ’vonnie at your rave,” she explains in a soft voice.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, that fits,” Sour Cream says, then clears his throat. “He’s better now.”

“What do you mean?” Stevonnie asks incredulously.

“People change,” Sour Cream says. “Especially Kevin after he pulled that routine on a couple of other girls I know. Me and Buck talked him out of it. With our fists.”

Jenny slaps him on the chest. “ _That_ was why you two were all bruised. He split your lip!”

“In my defense he was talking ’bout _you_ when I threw the first punch,” Sour Cream half whispers to Jenny, then turns to Stevonnie. “Look, Kevin was an ass, and he still is, but he had gotten some wrong ideas about women and stuff. He’s better now.”

Stevonnie nods. _He fought his friend? Wow._ “Does Kevin even like guys? What about Jamie?”

“We intend to find out,” Jenny says.

“Buck’s gaydar is pretty ledgend,” Sour Cream adds. “Partly we do it cause both of them could really use some lovin’, and partly ’cause we can. And of course, do no harm.”

Jenny nods. “No broken friendships, no broken hearts. We just nudge people towards each other when we see they have chemistry.”

Stevonnie whistles. “Remind me to come to you about relationship advice… Anyway, say hi to Buck and Kevin from me. I like the whole red-thing, Jenny. And Sour Cream? Cool pants.”

* * *

 _Great,_ Stevonnie thinks, walking home towards the temple. _Went out with a lot of things on my mind, come back with two more._

_.. So if Jenny and Buck and Sour Cream are a couple. Couple? Triple? ‘Triad’ was what she called it?_

_Wait a minute, Opal and Garnet. No. Whoa._

_Could I ever fall in love with someone?_

They walk on and the ocean comes into view as they near the beach. They glance at the fryman clan’s shop. _Ronaldo needs a tinfoil hat one of these days._

They reach the sand and step out of their sandals, feeling the cool sand under foot. _Mom… Mom died. On purpose._ Stevonnie shakes their head, attempting to clear their mind. _She kept that hidden. Pearl would be so sad. If she isn’t already._

_Maybe I should just go find out all her secrets. It’s not like I’ve ever known her, not like I’ll love her any less if she was… Secretly evil, or something._

_She’ll still just be mom._

Their bare feet strike the wood of the ramp up to the beach house deck.

_Your secrets are safe with me, mom._


	67. Coming Home, Coming Out, Coming Clean

Inside the beach house is much commotion. The Gems are gathered around the kitchen counter, hunched over something incredibly interesting (well, Amethyst is sitting _on_ the counter,) while the Maheswarans are occupying the sofa, barely holding back giggles.

Stevonnie comes upon this scene, and the strangeness is a welcome reprieve. “Wh— What’s going on?”

Pearl perks up. “Oh! Stevonnie, our identification documents came in the mail!”

Stevonnie comes up to the kitchen table — on it lies open envelopes and various documents: most notably, passports, social security cards, picture IDs, and birth certificates.

“This is for you,” Pearl says and hands them a passport.

Stevonnie opens it to a stamp-sized picture of Steven, and a listing of his personal details. “Good picture,” they mutter.

“I’m happy you think so,” Pearl says with a wide smile, “we spent quite a while picking out the best options for everything.

“As it turns out you can have any title you please that isn’t subject to licensure or claims of nobility, so we are now — in the eyes of the United States government — officially Crystal Gems.

“For our surnames, I used our Gem types — Nacre, Corundum, and Quartz — but that’s mostly formality—”

Stevonnie interrupts Pearl. “Gem types?”

Pearl pauses. “Yeah, well, it’s a traditional classification system used on Homeworld, coarser than the specifications ‘Pearl’ and ‘Amethyst’ for instance. It ties into traditions of using different base crystal matrices for a Gem.”

That only raises more questions, but Stevonnie files them away for later.

“Anyway,” Pearl continues, “birth dates were tricky, since we all came into this universe several millennia before the start of the Common Era. Instead I decided to use the leap days around the turn of the century while preserving our actual age ordering.”

February 29th. Pearl in 1892, Garnet in 1896, Amethyst in 1904. Stevonnie cocks their head. “Pearl, you’re older than Garnet?” they ask.

“No. Sapphire and Ruby are older than Pearl,” Garnet says, “But it took a while before we got the bright idea to be me.”

Stevonnie looks at Garnet while she speaks as is common courtesy, but Garnet is _smiling knowingly._

Pearl continues, “the hardest part was place of birth. _Fortuitously_ there are so many humans that strange coincidences are common enough that there are guidelines in place.”

She holds up the birth certificates

> `Place of Birth: IN THE AIR.`

While Amethyst’s reads:

> `Place of Birth: STATE OF BUCKEYE, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA`

Stevonnie looks over at Amethyst. “Kindergarten is in Buckeye?”

Amethyst nods.

From the sofas Priyanka snorts loudly, suppressing a laugh.

“What?” Amethyst says defensively, turning to face the Maheswarans.

Priyanka controls herself. “Oh, no it’s not— It’s just you’re a US born citizen over the age of 35. Doug pointed out, that you’re eligible to run for President.”

Now it’s Pearl’s turn to snort with laughter.

“ _What?_ ” Amethyst hisses at her.

Garnet puts a hand on Amethyst’s shoulder. “The office of presidency is the highest executive position in the United States. Amethyst, you’re good at a lot of things, but you’d be terrible at leading a human nation,” she says.

Amethyst relaxes visibly, “ah, OK. Yeah, that’s fair.”

“To summarize: we are citizens now,” Garnet continues, “Stevonnie, what did you find out while you were away?” Again comes that smile.

“I’m–” they begin, but falter.

Standing up straighter, Stevonnie turns to address Doug and Priyanka too.

“Pronouns: You’re my mother,” — Stevonnie points to Priyanka — “you’re my father,” — pointing at Doug — “Greg Universe is my dad, and Rose Quartz is my mom.”

They clear their throat. “I’ve decided that I’m going to learn mom’s dark secrets, and then decide if it’s safe to tell the rest of you.”

“But—” Pearl begins. Stevonnie interrupts her, holding up a hand.

“The reason why, is that I never knew mom. I— that is to say, Steven— never got to know her, and has never really known what to think of her. And further, Steven has never needed mom to be around.

“If anything, you three, but especially you, Pearl, deserve the honor. If anyone has ever been a mother to Steven, it was you three.

“I— I really want to thank you for that. Pearl, Garnet, Amethyst, thank you for being the mother he could never have, even though you all miss mom so much. You’ve done a really good job.”

A stunned silence descends. Garnet smiles even wider, Pearl is struck dumb tearing up.

Amethyst jumps down from the kitchen counter, goes up to Stevonnie and beckons them down to her. Stevonnie kneels and Amethyst pulls them into a tight hug.

Stevonnie pats her head.

Then Amethyst pulls back from the hug and wipes her eye. “Aw, jeez, look at me getting all misty.”

“You—” Pearl says, “you really think we— we’re…”

Stevonnie stands, steps up to Pearl and puts both hands on her shoulders. “I’d never say it if I didn’t mean it. You’re a great parent, Pearl.”

A single tear rolls down Pearl’s ivory-white cheek.

“C’mon,” Stevonnie says, “don’t cry, Pearl.”

She hastily wipes her cheek with a palm. “You say the nicest things, you two. I can’t help it.”

Garnet is still just smiling, with one hand resting on the kitchen counter. Stevonnie walks up to her. “Earth to Garnet?”

Garnet shakes her head and puts her hand on Stevonnie’s shoulder. “We’re happy to have the privilege. You’re pretty great yourself.”

Stevonnie takes Garnet’s hand on their shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Then, they turn to address everyone once again. They beckon Doug and Priyanka over.

“Whatever mom may have done, to me, she will always just be ‘mom.’ That’s why I’m going to find out what she did.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility,” Doug says.

“I’m not going to do it alone, father. I— I have a confession to make everyone.”

“Hmm?” Pearl says.

Garnet just smiles.

Stevonnie takes a deep break. “We’re in love.”

The ensuing silence stretches seconds into small eternities.

“Called it,” Garnet mutters.

“You’re— as in, my little…” Doug says.

Priyanka’s eyes narrow. “Can we have a private conversation with our daughter?”

Stevonnie is just about to answer in the positive — it’s common courtesy as a fusion to unfuse at the sincere request of others (and for the record, Sugilite committed a _major_ faux-pas,) but there is something in her tone that makes them hesitate.

“Are you going to scold her? Or lecture her?” Stevonnie asks instead.

“That is not really Steven’s business,” Priyanka retorts.

Stevonnie crosses her arms. “Yes. Yes it is in fact. He cares about her as much as anyone, and to be honest, she’s scared of you when you say things like that.

“Steven is kind, considerate, smart, loving, protective, and a superhero. Isn’t that enough? Do you _need_ to talk to her right now about the dangers of dating when it’s only been an hour since I found out I was made of love?

“Mother, please, let me have this.”

Priyanka is about to protest, but Doug puts a hand on her shoulder. “Dear, they’re right.”

“But—” she protests.

“Our daughter is in love with a superhero… I say we run with it. We could do worse for a son-in-law.” He turns to Stevonnie. “We’re happy for you two.”

“Thanks, father,” Stevonnie says and pulls him into a hug. Overcoming her cognitive dissonance, Priyanka puts an arm around their shoulders, and Stevonnie pulls her into the hug too.

“Aww~” Amethyst coos.

Stevonnie pulls away, with a smile on their face. “Now, I think you should help Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl get a bank account or something. I’ll go see what I can do about terrible secrets. OK?”

* * *

Stevonnie takes a deep breath, collects their thoughts and speaks a command. “Room, I wish to know if Rose left any messages for me… And if so, show them to me, or play them.”

The clouds swirl and a figure forms.

Pink curls. Tall stature. White dress.

Stevonnie startles, stumbles and falls. “ _Roomceaseallconstructsplease!_ ” they yelp.

Again they are alone in the pink clouds. Their heart hammers away in their ears. _Rose! That was rose._

“Room, I wish for the tiny floating whale guide.”

The small pink aquatic mammal appears. “Hello, Steven.”

“It’s Stevonnie,” they correct it, “and I need to know if the message that I just asked the room to play was a simulation of Rose.”

The whale floats for a beat, silent. “No free-form intensional simulation of ‘Rose’ takes place.”

“OK… If that means what I think it means…” Stevonnie steels themselves. “Play it then, please.”

There’s the slight delay as the clouds come together once more, and then she is there. Beautiful in person. Eight feet tall, massive curls, graceful. Her eyes are closed.

(That is assuming the image is faithful.)

She opens them and looks at Stevonnie, a smile comes to her lips.

“Mom?”

A wave of cognitive dissonance washes over Stevonnie and they barely manages to keep it together. _OK, I can do this. It’s OK. This is just a message._

“ _Are you OK?_ ” The thing that looks like Rose asks.

Stevonnie swallows hard. “Yeah, yeah, I’m OK.”

“ _Are you a fusion of Steven’s?_ ”

“Yeah.”

She giggles — a deep motherly sound.

Stevonnie shakes. It’s eerie. It’s hard to keep the tears at bay.

Her expression turns concerned. “ _I am sorry if my presence causes you distress, perhaps you could come back when you are more at ease?_ ”

Stevonnie slides apart with the grace they can muster, and Steven and Connie come into being, side-by-side, holding hands.

“Whoa,” Connie says.

Steven draws a shaky breath.

“ _Hello, Steven. Oh, how you’ve grown._ ” The Rose says. With a warm smile on her face, she walks up to the two of them.

Steven falls onto his rear.

“What are you?” Connie asks, taking a step in front of Steven.

The Rose stops. “ _This message is not the real me, don’t worry. It’s an imitation of my mannerisms and my speech patterns, and hopefully it contains the answers to your questions._ ”

Connie holds out a hand and Steven takes it. She pulls him to his feet.

The Rose smiles. “ _Hello Steven…_ ” Then her expression shifts to one of incredible sadness. “ _Oh, I wish I could be here with you._ ”

“Did, did you really commit suicide?” Connie asks.

The Rose sighs. “ _I…_ Chose… _To cease my existence to become part of you, Steven._ ”

“Why?” Connie asks.

“ _It hurt too much. Living with what I had done… I hope you don’t think less of me for it._ ”

Steven can’t even bear to look at the image of his mother. It is entirely too overwhelming. Connie strokes his hand and continues asking. “What do you want to tell Steven?”

The Rose pauses noticably before speaking. “ _Steven. When you hear this I will be long gone. It would have pleased me in life to know you had already found human subjects at such a young age. One day I’m sure you will be a great king._

“ _Yellow Diamond is still dead set on claiming Earth for herself. Anything else defies basic reasoning. When she comes she will meet no resistace, for the Crystal Gems have fallen. But… There is still hope._

“ _Hope that she can be defeated. That hope is you, Steven. You have the power to stand up against her, with Humanity at your back._

“ _It is up to you to defeat Yellow Diamond, and once and for all save humanity from the Diamond Authority. Show Gemkind that Gems don’t matter. Only Humanity matters._ ”

Connie’s is reeling from the incongruity — Rose is not supposed to say such things. Steven clings to her arm, hiding his face.

“How can you say that?” Connie says, accusingly. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes.

“ _I’m sorry, but I don’t have an answer to that particular question._ ”

Connie glares at her — no, _it._

The Rose merely continues: “*Steven, I love you. Even though I’ll never meet you. I made you so something good could come out of it all…" Her voice changes. The image flickers. “ _I just can’t carry on anymore. It’s too much. I am not a good mother… Not a good friend… Not a good leader… Not a good wife…_ ”

She chokes back a sob and punches something distinctly solid which isn’t there.

The image flickers again, to a calmer demanor. “ _After some deliberation I’ve elected not to delete that._ ”

Connie and Steven are mostly stunned, and Connie manages to whisper “Wh— What did you do that was so terrible?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I legit broke into tears writing this part.


	68. Book Ends

_I’ve always been a leader. Always and only ever. I remember my early years vividly, when I was young and strong and ignorant. The forty-second generation. Six degrees of separation removed from the Demiurge._

_I was smart, I was resourceful, I was relentless, I was optimistic. I fought, I tricked, I killed. One out of maybe six hundred with the potential to become a great ruler. Seven of us lasted our first fifty centuries._

_I was six thousand years old, and almost everyone I had cared about had died. I grew tough._

_I led conquests. I oversaw the utilization of planets as spawning grounds for gems. I saw the creation of millions of gems._

_We grew older, we got to be known as the terrible six. I grew complacent and fat on the power I had accumulated, as an enforcer for the highest authorities, commanding a veritable army._

_Infighting followed, and I killed one of my equals, one with whom I had shared many a victory. I lost everything, reduced to a skeleton crew._

_I was twelve thousand years old, and almost everyone I had cared about had died. I grew cunning._

_I licked my wounds, remade my forces, and together with my three peers we overthrew the sitting authority. Us four… Sisters, I suppose— of the terrible generation. The Diamond Quartet became the Diamond Authority._

_We reeled back the ravenous expansion efforts of the previous rule, concentrated wealth and culture in Homeworld space. The coup had cost us dearly._

_I was twenty-seven thousand years old, and almost everyone I had cared about had died. I grew decisive._

_From a world of violence and jungle law arose a more sophisticated society, made in the image of our radical ideas. That the strong had a duty to look after their subjects. We divided into four armies, one for each._

_An age of silver._

_We waged cold wars. We made advances in weapons. Ideological differences led Blue Diamond and me into an all out hot war._

_I was thirty-eight thousand years old, and almost everyone I had cared about had died. I grew strong._

_Gemkind was depleted and we struck an ironclad truce to boost our numbers once more. We codified the caste system, we built a stricter, more rigid social hierarchy to limit violence._

_Gemkind’s numbers swelled, homeworld became a paradise once more._

_An age of gold._

_Our nemesis — nay —_ Nemesis _came upon us. Hegemonic, unbeatable, an evil bending fate itself. Fighting us from beyond the gulf of time, in the remote possibility that we might oppose it._

_We lost an entire moon to a series of events so unlikely it was an entropic impossibility._

_It would have been the end of us. The hardest problem the four of us had ever faced._

_So we found a way to fight it by not fighting. To explore how to not explore that which was not. We reeled under the arcane discoveries. We kissed madness. We built gigantic devices that did nothing and yet everything._

_Somewhere somehow we must have happened upon the solution — perhaps a weapon so terrible that omniscience would be a liability. Perhaps it merely decided we were too much trouble._

_We had won. To be sure we built thousands more. Good luck charms, almost; warding off evil. From that day on we always brought two with us on tours of conquest. We peppered the galaxy with them in unmanned probes, and even sent them to other galaxies._

_I was fifty-one thousand years old, and almost everyone I had cared about had died. I grew kind._

_Our capability grew. The innovations from the war that was not gave us unprecedented advancements. We prospered like nothing before._

_Pearl, whom you know, became mine. Sapphire found her way to be one of my seers. Ruby found her way into my court staff._

_We found Earth. It was an unprecedented globe, and I knew when I first laid eyes on it, that it would be an amazing place._

_When I first saw humankind, I knew: this was the vision of the Demiurge._

_I was seventy-six thousand years old and almost everything I cared about seemed meaningless. I grew devout._

_Never had I considered myself a believer, but now it was staring me in the face. Living Beings in the image of Gemkind. Our heritage. I knew we could never destroy the biosphere on this planet. I would never allow it._

_With fervor I led the scientific explorations, and presented my findings to my peers._

_They disagreed. Earth was so rich it could double the extant population of Gems if exploited carefully, and such a treasure was not to be squandered because I had grown soft._

_My three peers turned on me, stripped me of my credentials, in my absence sullied my name._

_And so I chose to widen my schism to a chasm. On my orders, my forces on Earth traveled to Homeworld and covertly extracted my remaining loyalists. In a decisive strategic strike we made sure no one would follow us._

_Everything I had cared about in my old life, I put behind me. Earth was everything I had ever dreamed of. A Paradise._

_I gave up my name._

_Inspired by this world my followers explored, loved, and lived._

_Humanity was burgeoning. Agriculture and civilization were blooming and my heart swelled with their beauty. We built beautiful places far removed from humanity so as to not disturb._

_I was stupid. For while I had seen and been shaped by the horrors of war, and thus implicitly sought to avoid it, dissenters among my ranks were not so wise. Some tried to challenge me lawfully, some tried to challenge me militantly._

_They should have known better._

_No, those that were most successful were smarter than that. They reached out to Homeworld. White Diamond descended upon me from above, summoned._

_When battle broke out they fought fiercely, we fought even harder; after all, we did not fight for our own sake._

_To add insult to injury, a generation of gems rose up to meet me from below, indoctrinated before they could even form their own ideas._

_It was hopeless for us from the first moment we manifested our weapons. The only way to win was to escalate abrubtly and extremely._

_I re-purposed one of the lesser weapons we had made to defeat Nemesis. I almost lost myself to madness in the act, working fervently in a chthonian recluse while my companions died above ground._

_When I emerged, wielding a device of unparalleled power, I singlehandedly turned the tide of war. Plainly, I walked into the garrisons of White Diamond and slew all who came in my way; warped their minds and bodies, imprisoned them in madness._

_Those that did not fall to the might of my weapon were torn apart by their former comrades._

_My subordinates drew their weapons and came to join me. I bid them to run and hide._

_Pearl didn’t._

_I bid her to run and hide twice more, first pleading, then threatening._

_She refused, and begged me to take her with me. We fused and strode into battle together._

_On the strawberry battlefield, White Diamond had engaged a force led by my foremost general, Garnet._

_I strode through their lines and fell upon White Diamond with a wrath that to this day terrifies even me. She used her last moments to construct a makeshift fortress for her soldiers._

_A noble final act, but one which had zero consequence._

_We left almost no survivors. Those that surrendered, we loaded up into derelict ships, together with monsters and shards. Sent them on a one-way trip home to relay the tale of what happens when you cross The Crystal Gems._

_In the aftermath, I spoke to my followers. About the horror of war, about the importance of humanity._

_The traitors — caught when we had found them out and kept imprisoned for the duration of the war — were brought into the light and I made an example of them. Their names became taboo._

_The Crystal Gems that remained were my fanatics._

_We mourned the dead, celebrated our victory, cried, laughed, loved._

_I was eighty thousand years old and I had awfully few friends left. I grew weary, but I had work to do._

_We prepared for a second war, should it ever come. Built weapons and defenses._

_We atoned for my sins. Capturing the monsters that were roaming the world._

_Life was almost good enough for me to forget, and in an act of mercy the universe bequeathed me Amethyst, for me and all my congregation to treasure._

_Then the heaven fell on our heads. A bombardment of enormous scale, with weapons I have yet to discover the functions of._

_Swathes of land disappeared. Blown into crater-lakes or sunk beneath the sea by earthquakes. The resulting eruptions would darken the skies for a decade._

_Blue Diamond had always been the ruthless one. No formality, no honor, no mercy._

_She was clear on how far I was willing to go, and had retaliated in kind. She ordered her soldiers turned to bombard us with energy weapons, not caring if they hurt the biosphere._

_To this day, no-one has come closer to killing me than she did._

_They won the war._

_Shāh māt._

_Behind my shield, the Temple survived._

_Behind my shield, Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl survived._

_No one else did._

_I was still eighty thousand years old. I didn’t grow. I cracked._

_With my dreadful weapon I massacred Blue Diamond’s army. Fused together we tore every ship out of the sky. Far above the Earth we slew her, and her corrupted form fell to Earth._

_They lost the battle._

_There was no victory to celebrate. Only a battlefield and a void where love and joy used to be._

_I knew then, that this would never stop. I would never gain a reprieve from this cycle of destruction and violence._

_Humanity suffered. Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl were almost as broken as I was, and so I took to caring for the few things left in this world that still mattered._

_Humans, and my three friends._

_The three young ones got better, but I guess I never did._

_We mingled with humans, and I grew fonder of them; and yet the fonder I grew, the more I was reminded of those dead because of us. Those dead in the wars, and especially those my scientists had experimented on under my direct orders._

_But I had to go on. Nor for myself, but for them. For humans, and my three friends._

_And I did. I salvaged what I could, built what I could, taught what I could, and I researched. We traveled the world of humans in search of diversions, and never found it wanting._

_On a good day I fancied myself the successor of the Demiurge._

_Humanity grew numerous and deep under our watchful eye. They grew ever cleverer and in their own simple ways climbed the ladder of civilization. They discovered and invented so many things Gemkind long since came to take for granted, or abandoned; and also a few the likes of which I had never seen._

_More and more it became apparent that humanity was what mattered; I did not._

_A city was built just next to the temple, to my delight._

_And yet, despite my near boundless wisdom, a humble musician managed to push me off-center. He taught me that humanity was not something to be put on a pedestal, or coddled, defended from the shadows._

_Humankind was, to merit, Gemkind’s equal. And for the first time, I fell as deeply in love as I had ever been with Pearl._

_It was not to last. Garnet’s watchful eye on the future saw doom on the horizon and she confided in me. Between us we kept it secret._

_Even from her I kept it secret that I could not bear to fight another war, for this one we would most certainly lose, and I would most certainly survive to see my three beloved Gems and my five-and-a-half billion beloved humans die gruesome deaths, if for no other reason than the fact that Yellow Diamond would force me to._

_I couldn’t do it. Not again. Not one more war. So I created you, Steven, and in doing so I will have destroyed my own mind to become part of you._

_I’m a bad mother, and a bad wife. I’m a poor leader to abandon you all now. Forgive me._

_I know the odds are against you, I know it won’t be easy. But you won’t have to do it alone._

_In spirit, I will always be with you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of what one could consider Book One.


	69. How Far We've Come

Amethyst cooks dinner.

The Maheswarans, Pearl, and Garnet discuss strategy.

The temple door opens, and Steven and Connie meekly step out. Connie is pale, and wide-eyed, but standing straight. Steven’s cheeks are red and puffy from crying, and he clings to her for support.

Amethyst is in the kitchen and sees them first. “Oh no,” she mutters, jams the knife she’s using into the cutting board and vaults the counter.

Pearl and Garnet react, scampering around the partition to see, closely followed by Priyanka and Doug.

Amethyst reaches them. “Connie! Steven! What happened?”

Steven wipes his eyes with the back of a hand.

Amethyst looks from her to Steven and back. “Man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, are you OK?”

Connie shakes her head, regaining a little composure, then gives the barest hint of a smile. “We did, kind of.”

“Mom left a message,” Steven says, looking at the floor. “In the room.”

Amethyst nods. With a hand, she lifts Steven’s head up. “Hey, it’s OK. It’s Rose; we all have tons of issues because of her. I’m making dinner, go take a breather.”

Steven looks at her quizzically. “ _You’re_ making dinner?”

“Following a cookbook and all.”

* * *

Pearl brews tea, Steven gets to sit on Garnet’s lap, Connie on her father’s.

“Garnet, were you really Rose’s General in the war?”

Garnet nods. “I’m a _very_ good tactician and strategist.”

“It must have been hell,” Connie says.

Pearl comes over with the teapot and cups on a tray. “The first war wasn’t so bad. It was… Clean, almost. Honorably fought. White Diamond just had four times as many soldiers as us.

“The second war had the express purpose of wiping us off the face of the planet. That was a lot worse.”

She pours the tea expertly.

“Did… Did mom ever tell you guys how she was feeling?” Steven asks.

“Of course she did. We were her closest friends,” Pearl says. “Why do you ask?”

Steven and Connie exchange glances. “We just got the impression she was really down in the dumps over the things she did during the war.”

Pearl pauses, thinking. “I did wield that weapon with her as Rainbow Quartz when we defeated White Diamond. She was very grimly determined to win at any cost.”

“And,” Garnet says, “we used it against Blue Diamond, all of us together. That was justified, though.”

“What was the weapon like?” Steven asks.

“Horrible,” Amethyst pipes up from the kitchen.

“But necessary,” Pearl adds.

“No, seriously,” Amethyst says, “that thing still gives me the creeps and we haven’t even looked at it in five thousand years.”

Pearl looks at Amethyst, then sighs. “It was necessary.”

“Again, I’m not saying that; but can we agree that it was horrible and unethical?” Amethyst says.

“Without a doubt,” Garnet says.

“You’re making it sound like you broke the Geneva convention or something,” Doug says.

Pearl nods. “It killed most, and turned the rest into mindless monsters. I suppose it is comparable to chemical or nuclear warfare, to humans.”

“Does it still exist?” Priyanka asks.

“It has been dismantled, and only Rose knew how to put it back together,” Garnet says.

Connie fiddles with the circlet on her head — a nervous gesture.

“Is… Is something wrong?” Pearl asks.

“Yeah,” Steven says. “But I’m not sure you’re ready to hear it. Although, Garnet probably already knows.”

“I do. Pearl, Amethyst, I’m sitting on this one,” Garnet says and sips her tea.

“But— What is it?” Pearl asks.

Steven shifts in his seat, distinctly uncomfortable.

Pearl huffs in annoyance. “Come on, you can’t just tell me you have a secret about Rose and then keep it!?”

“Yes I can,” Garnet says. “— Seer’s confidentiality.”

“Pearl, leave it be,” Amethyst says. “We’re all a bunch of emotional wrecks, and we really have more important problems right now than dealing with all the shady stuff Rose ever did.”

From the kitchen, the sound of sizzling and a smell of fried fish begins to emanate.

Pearl glares at Amethyst over her shoulder. “I don’t appreciate your tone, Amethyst.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Connie says, “she loved you very much. Maybe you should just remember her like that?”

Pearl turns to look at Connie. “Maybe I should,” she says and relaxes visibly. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK, at least you didn’t run off,” Steven says.

Pearl chuckles.

“So, what have you guys come up with?” Connie asks to steer the topic away.

“I’m going to Paradise to hit up the gambling strip with my future sight for easy money,” Garnet says.

“Among other things, of course,” Pearl adds. “Meanwhile I’ll work on some technological innovation.”

“Like what?” Connie asks.

“Well, I did manage to build a single-stage-to-orbit vehicle out of spare aviation parts.”

“And then there’s all the valuable stuff we have lying around,” Amethyst adds. “We’re gonna sell some of that too.”

“And you’re hiring an accountant and a finance lawyer at earliest convenience,” Priyanka says. “I swear you three independently came up with every kind of fraud known to man over the course of planning this out.”

“So, does that mean we’re going to be rich?” Steven asks.

Pearl nods. “Most likely.”

* * *

Dinner is delicious, above all. Glazed tuna steaks, rice and steamed vegetables. A dinner table and mismatched chairs from Amethyst’s piles provides seating.

(Steven even texted Greg an invitation, but received no answer. They set aside a plate for him.)

“My compliments to the chef,” Doug says. “You cook often, Amethyst?”

Amethyst grins, “You know, on-again off-again up through history. I actually got the idea to try something more… _constrained_ , tonight. Cooking by the book.”

“How do you usually cook?” he asks.

“For myself, and usually with stuff that makes it inedible for humans. Like motor oil,” she says.

“Why?” Priyanka asks.

Amethyst shrugs. “It feels weird. Weird but good.”

“I’ve seen her eat a jar of really strong mustard with a spoon,” Steven adds.

Connie giggles.

(They’re sitting next to each other, holding hands under the table.)

“I’m very impressed with the orderliness of it all,” Pearl says. She’s sitting with an empty plate in front of her.

“I figured you would,” Amethyst replies with a smile and a hint of a blush.

The conversation turns onto current events and smalltalk and what Stevonnie did in town — leading to the inevitable update on the romantic goings-on in Beach City. Not that either the Gems or the Maheswarans have much investment in it, but they all take the time to listen and show interest.

Every plate is emptied (the exception being Garnet, who’ve eaten only a bite or two,) and conversation turns to future plans.

“I’d like if Doug and I could get a scan too,” Priyanka suggests. “Just for the sake of scientific curiosity.”

Pearl glances at Amethyst. “Like, right now?” she asks.

“Not necessarily, but maybe next week?”

“That would be fine by me, at least,” Pearl says.

“Yeah, sure,” Amethyst adds.

Doug rises from his seat. “We should probably think about getting home soon.”

“Drive carefully,” Garnet says.

“Always,” he replies. “Connie, are all your things packed?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Father, could I just take Steven for a quick walk? We need to discuss some things about the message from Rose.”

Doug looks at his wife. “I guess so,” he says.

“Let’s have a cup of tea in the meantime,” Garnet says.

* * *

Connie takes Steven by the hand and they leave the beach house together, walking down the hill and across the sand to the surf. The sunset paints a pallet of orange, red and violet across the sky inland; and in contrast the sky over the sea is an inky dark blue, peppered with tufts of clouds reflecting the setting sun.

“What did you want to talk about with mom’s message?” Steven ask while they walk.

“Are you OK?” she asks.

Steven shrugs. “It’s a lot to take in. Do you really think she wanted me to be a… A warrior?”

Connie gives his hand a squeeze. “I think maybe war was all she knew… But I know that you don’t have to do what your parents want you to do. You can solve all the problems in your own way.

“The Steven way.”

Steven nods.

“I also just wanted to be alone with you for a moment,” Connie adds.

Steven thinks over the implications of that, but Connie stops and turns to face him. She blushes. “I know it’s probably not the best time, with… Everything, but— Stevonnie…” she begins.

Steven blushes too. “I think it’s a good time,” he says. “Connie, you’re the most amazing person I know.”

Her eyes light up. “You really think so?”

“You know I do. Stevonnie is right, I… I like you. A lot.”

Connie nods, breathlessly.

“Would you like me… To be your boyfriend?”

“Only a lot,” She says. They both giggle. “Would you like me to be your girlfriend?” She asks.

Steven nods. “Yeah.”

Then she leans in for a kiss. Their lips meet, and it’s a little awkward, but very nice none-the-less.

“ _Wow,_ ” Connie whispers. They intertwine their fingers and stand there, gazing into each other’s eyes for a good long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, that is a Matchbox 20 reference in the title there. Go listen to that song. It's amazing.


	70. We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Magical Adventures to Bring You a Slice of Junior High School

Most adults will tell you that Seventh grade was not their idea of a good time; and that public education in the United States in general suffers a number of flaws. (At least those with a good head on their shoulders will.)

Connie doesn’t mind much on her own behalf. She’s smart, resourceful, and above all else she’s got a number of magic items to sweeten the deal.

If it weren’t for those three things, the bullying would be a lot worse.

Connie has always been a quiet kid, she has always been socially shy, and unbeknowst to herself, the strictness of her parents have thrown a spanner in the works for their rapport on matters of social well-being.

And even though her father has held down a position in the same town now for two years, she still feels like the new kid.

It’s a no surprise that the popular girl’s clique not only decided on her being an acceptable target, but also decided to call her ‘curry,’ even though school policy forbids racist slurs.

Once, Connie went to her mother with this problem, and while Madeleine got detention, Esmée walked free to continue the needling.

(Priyanka even contacted their parents, which led to some undisclosed disciplinary action.)

And what came of it? Revenge. They poured glue into her locker. And then they got subtler.

Today, Connie sits through English doodling little hearts in red pen on her notes. It’s been a week and a day since she confessed her love — well, Stevonnie brought it to the table, but still — and the time has passed thus far in a flurry of spending every moment she can with Steven.

Her parents have given her a new unlimited-texts phone plan to accommodate the vast quantity they’ve been exchanging.

Their teacher, an elderly black gentleman, gives them an in-class assignment and goes on an errand. No sooner has this happened than the violin music picks up every so slightly, putting Connie on edge.

“Would you look at that, Curry is in _loo~ve,_ ” it comes from behind her.

Esmée. Petite, tall, white brunette with a fashion sense to match. Very European, but actually from Nouvelle-Orléans. With her is one of the less consistent hangers-on of the duo.

“What’s her name?” the hanger-on says. Sofie — black curls, who grew tall and lanky.

Connie’s anger spikes. She turns to glare at Sofie. “Are you saying there’s anything wrong with being gay?”

“Holy shit, are you?” Esmée exclaims. “I can see it — you’re all butch-y.”

Connie is in fact wearing black cardigan over a periwinkle dress, with leggings underneath, and her favorite red boots. She could hardly be more feminine

Connie rolls her eyes. “You’re both homophobes,” she says. “And racist.”

“No we’re not,” Esmée says. “It’s just friendly banter. Right, Sofie?”

Sofie hesitates, then nods enthusiastically.

“Besides, he probably doesn’t even like you—” Esmée says and walks past Connie. She attempts to snatch the note pad Connie has been doodling in, but the circlet has warned her, to a firm hand on it.

Disappointed, she walks around the front of Connie’s desk. She looks behind Connie, at Sofie and gives a small nod.

With a jerk of her head, Connie nimbly dodges Sofie’s attempt to grab her circlet. In a burst of motion, she grabs Sofie’s outstretched hand and without thinking pulls the girl into a practiced wrist-lock, forcing her forward and down.

Sofie gives a yelp of pain and falls onto one knee. Connie — startled by her own actions — lets go. “Sorry, about that, but don’t take my stuff.”

“I wasn’t—” Sofie begins, rubbing her wrist.

“Psycho bitch,” Esmée hisses, and helps Sofie to her feet. Once the other girl is standing again, she goes for Connie’s bag, next to her desk. She grabs it by the pack handle.

 _I’ll show her,_ Connie thinks, feeling the impulse to defend her bag from capture.

“Give it back,” Connie says, standing up and holding out a hand. The whole class is watching at this point.

The bag is important. The duplicator wand is inside.

“No, I think I’m going to take a look through it,” Esmée says, and lugs it over one shoulder. It’s heavier than she anticipates.

Connie takes a step forward and Esmée holds the bag out behind her, and attempts to keep Connie away with her free hand.

Connie steps lightly on Esmée’s foot — to prevent her from withdrawing, then moves cleanly around her feeble defense into her personal space, grabs hold of her arm with one hand, and uses the other to pry her little-finger out from her fist closed around the pack handle.

A slight pull backwards is all it takes for Esmée to let go of the bag, and it falls into Connie’s grasp.

She’s going to get hell for this, but the catharsis was too tempting. The two girls are going to re-frame it into a fight, and the whole class is their witness.

Connie dumps the bag down next to her desk and makes eye contact with Esmée. “Don’t. Take. My. Stuff. OK?”

* * *

By some miracle, the teacher returns and no one rats. It’s almost too good to be true.

Connie hands in her work (she has managed to minimize the little red hearts on this one,) and class ends. She packs up and heads for the cafeteria. She’s technically free to go, but since getting the circlet, Connie has managed yet another feat.

She has made another friend. A girl from the other seventh grade class named Maryam.

Coming into the cafeteria, Connie scans the room for the watchful eyes of any staff; and finding none, she gets up on an empty chair to survey the large room. Almost at the other end of the cafeteria she spots Maryam’s light green hijab.

Quickly and precisely, Connie navigates through the body of students already occupying the room: some standing in the middle of everything, some walking with trays, some seated in chairs with terrible posture. She takes special care to follow her circlet-granted intuition in avoiding trouble.

“Hi Maryam,” Connie says.

“Oh, Connie aren’t you off yet?”

The other girl gets up and they share a quick, light hug. Maryam is taller than Connie by a little. Her parents are from Pakistan, and Connie isn’t quite sure if either of their parents would approve.

“I’m just here to say hi, you know,” Connie says.

“OK,” Maryam says and sits down by her tray again. She’s reading Connie’s lend copy of _Welcome to the Wizard Wilds._

“What chapter are you at?”

Maryam holds the book open for Connie to see. Sixteen.

“The best part is next,” Connie says with a smirk.

Maryam giggles. “Spoilers! Oh my land!”

Connie makes a zip-lock motion across her lips, then starts giggling too. “Anyway, see-ya.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

It’s almost six o’clock, and Connie is home alone. Her homework is done, the entire house has been cleaned by a small army of Clonnies, and she is cooking dinner with two of them for backup when her phone buzzes.

> 
>         Mother:
>     Emergency @ hospital. Coming home late.
>     
>                                      04:22 PM
>     -----------------------------------------
>     05:52 PM
>     
>     Mother:
>     Hello dear. There's something weird going
>     on at the hospital.
>     
>                                       Connie:
>                                       How so?
>     
>     Mother:
>     I think it's Gem related. I've tried to
>     reach Steven's aunts at their house, but
>     nobody is picking up.
>       

Connie ponders this for a moment.

> 
>                                           Connie:
>                             I'll call Steven.
>       

“Gem emergency at the hospital according to mother. Pack it away,” Connie says and the two Clonnies start packing up cut vegetables and other half-prepared ingredients into Tupperware boxes.

Connie runs upstairs to her room, and fetches her emergency pack — a runners backpack with power bars, water, a first aid kit, and, well… A healing potion. She retrieves the baton from the secret pocket in her bag and rolls it into a tarp together with the sharp training sabre Pearl gave her at the beginning of the summer holidays.

Then she dials Steven while one of the Clonnies braids her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book Two begins, and I introduce Original Characters.
> 
> Also bullying. Because there is no way a bookish, shy Indian-heritage seventh grader is not the target of bullying, let's be real. More on that later.
> 
> Right now, br42 is proof-reading my work for me. Big thanks. Pretty soon, I will do some re-naming, to change to using Priyanka and Doug(las) instead of Parvati and Kenta. Further, I'll be doing a little bit of editing, hashing out some things (notably Steven's mastery of the Temple door.)


	71. Civics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all my lovely readers.
> 
> I apologize for the long wait, but it has been worth it. As of today, the entire story has been proof-read and re-uploaded, so today is as good as any day for a re-read.
> 
> I would like to thank [BR42](/users/br42) for the help as my proof reader. It as been a wild ride, and there is so much more to come.
> 
> In sadder news, today is also the day we wave goodbye to ‘Parvati’ and ‘Kenta’, who will now instead go by their canon names, retroactively. Also, the name ‘Ocean City’ proved unfortunate considering the show's canon (esp. _Political Power_ ) and has now been replaced with ‘Crossroads,’ inspired by Salisbury, MD.
> 
> Expect more chapters real soon.
> 
> — Karl.
> 
> PS. Other fun things to do:
> 
> I have made a pleasant [Ao3 Skin](/skins/60790).

It is Thursday, and that means one very important thing to Steven.

School.

Now that Pearl has gotten the hang of all the financial business, Vidalia can finally send an invoice and actually get paid.

Not that Steven has any idea what an invoice even is; though he intends to find out at some point.

What Steven does know, is that school requires a lot of stuff. And while Amethyst could scrounge it up in no time, the Gems are out and about doing Gem things, which Steven _could_ in theory join them for…

… Were it not for the fact that it was a mission taking place in the Antarctic midwinter night, or in the crater of an active volcano, or deep under the ocean.

Steven plans to get his hands on a magic Gem space suit — or something equivalent — so he can go on those missions too.

Not that school isn’t a great substitute, but perhaps on days other than Tuesday and Thursday.

And also not on the weekends. That’s Connie time. Except maybe if he had two space suits…

That is what he thinks about while eating a late breakfast, sitting by the window, looking impatiently out over the beach for any sign of his teacher.

When that gets boring, he goes back to what has been his default activity ever since that moment on the beach Saturday night: thinking about Connie.

It’s a wonder he can eat anything with so many butterflies in his stomach. Lost in though, Steven completely misses Vidalia coming down the beach, up the slope and ramp and right up behind him.

She taps the glass, startling Steven into almost spilling his cereal.

“Hey Steven,” she says through the glass.

Steven smiles, flustered, and puts his bowl aside to head for the door.

“Hello Vidalia, come on in…”

Vidalia enters, carrying a large, rather garish, yellow backpack, and for once not wearing slippers — red basketball sneakers have the honor today.

“You looked a million miles away, there.”

Steven blushes and rubs his neck. “Yeah, I was kind of lost in thought.”

Vidalia chuckles. “Well, I can almost guess about what. Is it a girl?”

Steven nods meekly. He’s not sure why, but there is something shameful about the whole thing.

“Aw, shucks, boy. Don’t look like that,” she says and laughs. “Nothing wrong with loving someone. Gotta be one lucky girl to have you; now, how about we get started?”

Vidalia puts down the backpack and pulls off her Icelandic sweater.

“What’s in the bag?” Steven asks.

“Oh, lots of stuff. Books, mostly, a lecture plan I hastily threw together yesterday evening, summaries of the education standards initiative…”

“Whuzzat?” Steven asks

“Laws about what kids in school need to learn.”

Steven raises an eyebrow. “There’s laws about that?”

“There’s laws about tons of things. Most things in fact. Wanna start with learning about laws?”

Steven nods enthusiastically.

“Let me just get some paper and a textbook. How about you brew some tea?”

* * *

“OK, so we have the House of Representatives, and the Senate,” Vidalia says.

“Yeah.”

“Now, most laws come in the form of what is called a ‘Bill’, which originates in the House.”

“Was that the bigger one or the smaller one, again?” Steven asks paging through the textbook.

“Bigger.”

* * *

“After a bill then passes the Senate, it is presented to the President. The President usually either signs it, making it law, or vetoes it, sending it back.”

“So all that voting and stuff is just for naught?”

“No. If the President vetoes it, it goes back to the House and Senate. They hold another vote, and they can then vote to overrule the veto. Though that takes a two-thirds majority.”

Steven furrows his brow. “So the President can choose to… Make _really_ sure?”

“Yeah. But… There are some kinds of laws that are different.”

Steven groans. “OK, tell me about those then.”

Vidalia glances at her wristwatch — they’ve been at it nonstop for three hours. “We can stop if you —”

“No. I want to get this.”

Steven has nothing if not impressive determination. Perhaps irrationally so. “Steven, I don’t expect you to piece it all together on the first go. Usually, in a real school, you get some reading to do and a few days to mull it over, and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s just… I want to _get_ this. It’s not even hard, it’s just— I can’t keep it all in my mind at once, and paging through the book is tedious. But I have to understand, so I can go to school with Connie.”

Vidalia chuckles. “Is that your girlfriend?”

Steven nods gravely, trying to burn a hole in the civics textbook with his eyes.

“Sometimes you just gotta accept that there are things you don’t know yet. I had a teacher once who told me that when you study, it’s like drawing islands on a map, but when you take some time off from studying, you can build bridges between the islands. That’s when you ‘get’ it.”

Steven puts the book down and sighs. “The Gems have kept secrets from me. Always.”

Vidalia cocks her head. The change in tone is noticeable. “Really?”

“Yeah. Well, I only found out they did in the last year or so. But they did. About magic and wars and horrible things and themselves…”

Vidalia nods. “Why do you think they did it?”

Steven shrugs. “They say it’s because I wasn’t ready. Or that they didn’t want to upset me. But I kind of think they do it because they are afraid of facing the secrets they keep sometimes.”

Vidalia spends a good while coming up with a reply. “Adults are like that sometimes. You shouldn’t hold it against them. Well, maybe a little. You’re a very wise boy, Steven, you know that?”

The compliment defuses Steven’s dark mood a little. “Well, yeah. I guess. But… I think what frustrates me is that for the first time, I can get answers. I found my mom’s — Rose’s — journals, kind of.”

“And those have some of the answers you seek?” Vidalia asks.

Steven looks at the temple door. “Yeah, well. It’s scary. I found out that now I might have to keep secrets from the Gems. And… And that makes it hard. Like I want to know, but I don’t want to know.”

“Cognitive Dissonance.”

“Hm?”

“That’s the precise term for that kind of internal conflict.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, go on…”

Steven picks up the textbook again. “I have no idea how humans do a lot of things, and the answers aren’t scary, and no one wants to keep it secret from me, but then it turns out I’m not smart enough…”

Vidalia stifles a snort of laughter. “Don’t sell yourself short. You are one of the smartest twelve-year-olds I have ever met, did you know that?”

“I am?”

“Yeah. As I said: don’t beat yourself up over this, this is our first lesson. I’ll leave the book with you when we’re done, and give you some parts to read for Tuesday. That’s ‘homework.’ Usually, kids your age don’t even learn stuff at this level.”

Steven looks down at the book, then back up at Vidalia. “Then… Why are you teaching me these things?”

“Because you keep asking deeper and deeper questions. You were _so_ determined, I just couldn’t bear to stop you.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, how about we break for lunch?”

* * *

“I have an idea on how I can understand it all!” Steven says in the middle of a sandwich.

Vidalia has brought her own boxed lunch. “Oh yeah? What is it?”

* * *

Sometimes your job is so cool, that the paycheck of sixty dollars an hour is just a bonus.

(Sixty dollars is a pretty damn good, though. Vidalia asked for less initially, but Pearl insisted.)

Vidalia still can’t get her head around the fact that she is in fact standing in a holodeck straight out of Star Trek, in all but name.

“This was where my mom spent a lot of her time. Supposedly it’s good for all sorts of things,” Steven explains. “It can’t make any food though.”

“And it’s voice activated?” Vidalia asks, looking around herself at the seemingly infinite pink cloudscape stretching in all directions. “How big is this place?”

Steven consults the tiny floating whale. “How big is the room?”

“Physical dimensions are that of a sphere, with a radius of one hundred and sixty-two feet. Various tricks can be employed to make it appear larger than that,” the whale patiently explains.

Vidalia nods. “Shall we get started? What was that phrasing you used— _Room!_ I wish for some comfy chairs!” she calls out.

Nothing happens.

Steven scratches his head. “Room, I wish for some comfy chairs?” he tries.

A pair of recliners pop into existence.

“Seems like it only listens to you, huh?” Vidaila remarks.

Steven looks at his guide. “Whale, is there any way to make it so Vidalia can wish for things?”

The whale hovers silently for almost four seconds. “No. Entity named ‘Vidalia’ is a human being and by nature incapable of issuing commands.”

Vidalia furrows her brow and looks at Steven. Steven shrugs.

“Eh, it’s magic… I guess it’s just going to have to be my job.”

* * *

According to Vidalia’s wristwatch, it has taken them an hour and a half, but now, they stand among mock-ups of parliamentary halls, the Capitol building, a plethora of floating figures and numbers, all conjured at Steven’s request.

The kicker really came when Steven asked the Room to _read the textbook,_ in order to help with some of the things.

“So,” Steven says, “let me see if I get this.

“There’s a place, over in Washington City —” he gestures to a map of the East Coast, with Beach City and the capital highlighted “— where this building is located —” he points at the replica of the Capitol building “— where two big rooms are filled with people that everyone voted for. They vote for our laws.”

“Yep.”

With a wave of his hand, Steven brings up views of the Senate and House floors, holograms with _depth_ even — probably wildly inaccurate, but adorned with big numbers — ninety-eight for the Senate, four hundred and twenty-three for the House.

“To become law, bills have to pass through the House first, then the Senate, then onto the President —” the White House slides into view, and a comically over sized scroll of paper makes a pass in and out of the dizzying three-dimensional tableaux.

“The President can then either sign it or send it back…”

Steven continues this explanation, calling forth image after image, graphic after graphic, splitting the scrolls that represent bills and resolutions into smaller, more specific kinds, passing them through visual aides for votes and committee hearings, and so forth.

Vidalia is almost more fascinated by Steven himself than his impressive mastery of the Room.

As he explains, he is confident, smiling wide, and clearly enjoying himself. _It’ll almost be a shame to send him to a real school._ Vidalia thinks. _He would think it was so dull._

“… And… Yeah. Now I don’t know any more things about laws,” Steven concludes.

The huge scenes and diagrams float away a bit, becoming partly obscured by clouds once more.

“I think you’re going to catch up and go to school in no time if you keep this up, Steven,” Vidalia says.

* * *

“That was incredible,” Vidalia says as Steven summons the exit, and they leave the Room.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I used to watch TV-shows as a kid where they had that kind of stuff on spaceships in the far future. Never thought there would be one right here in Beach City.”

She picks up her sweater.

“You’re leaving already?” Steven asks.

“Yeah, it’s three o’clock, and I had kind of planned to end around half past two. I’m kind of running a little late for an appointment.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s my fault. Anyway, for your homework— sleep on it, and play with all the stuff you made in there. I’ll write up a test and see how much you know on Tuesday.”

Steven nods.

“I’ll have to revise your lecture plan, to fit what that holodeck can do — you’re going to be making leaps and bounds. Anyway —” Vidalia holds out a hand.

Steven reaches out and shakes it.

“Thank you for today.”

And with that, she picks up her bag, casually slings it over her shoulder, and marches out the door.

Steven looks around the beach house. _That was an intense day of school,_ he thinks, feeling the exhaustion creep in. It’s not every day you get to cram the bird’s-eye view of the legislative branch of government into your brain.

He starts picking up the various pieces of paper — defined terms and crudely drawn diagrams.

He picks up the book, and it weighs heavily in his hand, bound in white and blue, with a map of Washington City on the cover. It’s some kind of in-depth introduction to civics, going from elementary to quite advanced. ‘ _The United States’ Government for Dunces._ ’ He flips through it to the last page. Four hundred and fifty-two.

Steven wisely puts it aside. _Better not._

* * *

Thursday also happens to mean new episodes of Crying Breakfast friends. The perfect way to unwind — TV and snacks.

Twilight is beginning to creep into the sky outside when his phone rings.


	72. The Second Best Magical Problem Solvers Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Have a double-whammy, y'all.

Steven sees the caller id and immediate picks up. “Connie!”

He mutes the TV, cutting off the assorted wails.

“ _Steven!_ ” Connie’s voice comes through. “ _it’s Connie. My mother just texted me that there’s some Gem-related emergency going on at the hospital. She needs the Gems’ assistance._ ”

“Uh…”

“ _What is it?_ ”

“There’s a slight problem – Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl left on a mission yesterday and they aren’t back yet.”

“ _… Darn._ ”

“Yeah.”

“ _OK, OK. That’s not a problem, right? That just means we have to do it ourselves._ ”

Steven ponders this for a moment, and Connie takes his hesitance to mean he needs convincing.

“ _We can do this, Steven. We trained for this._ ”

“Yeah, I guess. I am a Crystal Gem. You’re a knight. We got this!”

“ _I am not just a knight. I am the whole army!_ ”

Steven chuckles. “Yeah.”

“ _Anyway, I need a ride. Are we traveling in style?_ ”

“Always. See you soon!”

“ _Wait, Steven, one more thing!_ ”

“What?”

Connie hesitates. “ _I love you._ ”

Steven blushes. “I— I love you too.”

The words are still foreign to them. Thrilling, even.

* * *

Steven runs outside, down the steps and effortlessly jumps the small gorge separating the slope leading up to the beach house from the foundation of the beach house proper — Lion’s favourite spot.

Lion stirs in its sleep and opens one eye at Steven’s intrusion.

“Hey big guy, Connie needs our help!”

Lion yawns… Rises… Stretches… Sits… Scratches…

Steven runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. “C’mon, there’s an emergency! Lion Licker for you if you hurry up!”

Lion flicks an ear and looks at Steven then lies down for Steven to mount it. He climbs up, and takes a firm grip of Lion’s mane. “OK, I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Lion stands up… And it becomes readily apparent that the height of the big cat, when added to Steven’s own in the confines of the space under the beach house deck, makes Steven’s head attempt to occupy the same space as the floorboards above.

The _Thump_ is as resounding as it is cringe-inducing. Steven clutches his scalp and mutters a curse that Pearl would reprimand him for.

He spurs Lion, who is considerate enough to avoid further head injuries for its rider.

A short portal-jump later, Steven arrives in Crossroads. As usual it creates a bit of a spectacle, when a bright pink hole in space opens up in the middle of a quiet street.

Steven jumps off Lion, still rubbing his head, and heads to the front door. Lion follows closely behind.

* * *

The doorbell rings, and Connie picks up the duplication wand from the table beside her and flicks it at both her remaining clones, leaving her alone in the kitchen.

With quick, light steps she trots to the front door, and opens it, knowing full well who is on the other side.

Steven stands there, backed by Lion. There’s just something about that curly-haired beau.

Connie blushes and smiles wide. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Steven says, “ready?”

“Yeah, give me a moment.”

Connie bolts back to the kitchen and picks up the tarp with the sword and baton, clicks on the runner’s pack, and girds up her loins — it won’t do to have the skirt get in the way.

The duplicator wand itself she has tied with a leather strand into a comically oversized necklace. It goes over her head, and under the collar of her dress. It is bulky, and rests bulbously against her sternum, but out of the way and close at hand.

She walks back to the front door where Steven is leaning against the door frame, looking down the street where people occasionally stop to look at Lion. He is looking mighty serious, and it only serves to make Connie weak in the knees.

“Is something the matter?”

Steven shrugs. “I hit my head. Mounted Lion under the deck, and then he stood up…”

Connie giggles, “I’m no magic saliva healer, but do you want me to kiss it better?”

Steven blushes and laughs, flustered. “We should go.”

* * *

They arrive at the Crossroads General hospital and Steven almost tumbles off Lion at the sudden stop — kept in place only by Connie’s strong arms.

“This is where your mom works?” he asks.

“Yup.”

Connie fishes her phone out of the pocket of her cardigan and dials her mother. The call goes through and she puts it on speaker for Steven to hear.

“ _Doctor Maheswaran speaking._ ”

“Hi mother, it’s Connie.”

“ _Hello, Connie, good to hear from you. Did you reach the Universes?_ ”

“Well, about that… The Gems are out on an important mission.”

“ _Shit… Excuse my language._ ”

“I’m in the parking lot with Steven. We have a magical Lion, you’re sure there’s nothing we can help with?”

“ _… I’ll be right down._ ”

Priyanka hangs up and Connie puts away her phone.

“So?” Steven asks.

“I don’t know. Sounds bad,” Connie says. She takes Steven’s hand. “So, what did you do today?”

“Vidalia came by and taught me about how Laws are made.”

“Oh? Was it interesting?”

Steven nods. “You?”

Connie shrugs. “Not much.”

Lion intrudes on their conversation by bumping its snout against the back of Steven’s head. It snuffles irritably.

“What’s with him?” Connie asks.

“I promised him a treat, wait just a second…”

Steven takes a deep breath and dives into Lion’s mane. A few seconds later he emerges with a Lion Licker in one hand. Lion immediately snaps its jaws at the treat, but Steven deftly whisks it away and stops the big cat with a hand on its snout.

“Now, now, Lion. I know you love Lion Lickers, but you gotta let me unwrap it first. Plastic isn’t good for you.”

Steven turns his back, and begins unwrapping the ice pops. Lion rests its head on his shoulder, mewling. He finishes unwrapping, and tosses it on the ground a few feet away. Lion bolts after it.

“He likes ice cream?” Connie asks.

Steven shrugs. “I keep a cooler full of them in his mane, even though they are disgusting.”

“I never really got to eat store-brought ice pops,” she muses.

Lion comes back with the ice pops stuck to its tongue. Connie looks quizzically at Steven.

“I keep them with one of those super ice cubes. Makes them so cold they stick to the tongue,” he explains.

Lion growls contentedly, then with considerable lingual dexterity positions the frozen hunk of sweetened dairy and additives between its molars and starts gnawing.

“He doesn’t mind,” Steven adds.

“Hey you two!”

They both turn and see Priyanka approaching at a brisk pace across the parking lot.

“Hi mother!” Connie calls out.

Priyanka is dressed in a white coat over hospital scrubs, her hair a bit frizzled, and she looks exhausted. She comes up to them, eyeing Lion somewhat. “I had hoped to have Pearl or Garnet here.”

“I’m sure they are out doing important world-saving business,” Steven says. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Priyanka sighs. “I don’t know, let me explain what is going on.

“During the morning rush hour, there was a thirty-car pile up on the motorway a few miles from here. I worked the ER for about five hours checking people for whiplash, setting fractures and pulling shards of glass out of— Anyway.

“A pair of patients were supposedly brought in with some abnormal injuries and the Dean for some reason decided to quarantine them; I only learned about this when my shift ended and went to investigate.

“I’ve seen strange things in my career, but those… _Things_ are definitely not human. One of them has _seven_ arms — the worst thing is that it seems like I am the only one who is actually reacting as if this is abnormal…”

She stops and rubs her eye. “If I didn’t know otherwise I would be thinking I was having a psychotic break.”

Connie reaches out and takes Priyanka’s hand.

“That sure does sound magic-like,” Steven says. “Are they attacking people?”

Priyanka gives her daughter’s hand a squeeze. “Not really, no. They are pretty docile, but so far as I can piece together it was these thing wandering onto the highway that caused the accident in the first place. They’re kept in the quarantine wing, but there’s a good few CDC guards posted — I was able to get a picture while one of them was distracted.”

She takes out her work phone and finds the picture, then shows it to Steven.

Steven takes one glance at it and says: “Yep, that’s a Gem mutant alright. Definitely.”

“It is?” Connie asks and gently takes the phone to get a better look.

“I mean, it looks like one — the jumbled up body and all. Dr. Maheswaran, do these things have something that looks like like a bunch of gemstones glued together, somewhere on their bodies?”

Priyanka takes a moment to answer. “Yeah— yeah, I think they might.”

Steven nods. “Then it’s a Gem mutant.”

“Those things that Peridot made?” Connie asks. “So what do we do?”

Steven shrugs. “I think the humane thing is to poof and bubble them until I figure out how to… _Fix_ them.”

“So… In other words we need to somehow get close enough to _stab_ them,” Connie says.

Priyanka clears her throat. “I had thought maybe Pearl or Garnet could have put on a suit and maybe made a fake badge…”

“You watch too many spy thrillers,” Connie quips.


	73. Operation: Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again.
> 
> (Proof-read and ready for your enjoyment.)

“So, what _do_ we do?” Steven asks.

Priyanka consults her wrist watch. “If you do anything, you will need to come up with it quickly. I need to head back soon.”

“We could try to sneak in?” Steven suggests.

“How?” Connie asks.

“Through the air ducts,” he says.

Connie crosses her arms, raises an eyebrow and smirks. “ _Really?_ Because I thought my mother had watched too many spy thrillers…”

“Don’t,” Priyanka says. “It’s quite dangerous — I’ve heard of at least a few dozen cases of people attempting something like that and getting horribly injured.”

Connie snaps her fingers. “We’ll get Clonnie to do it! I mean— either it works or it doesn’t, right? With Clonnie, it doesn’t matter if it’s dangerous.”

“The hospital’s ventilation ducts might be too small, so you should probably have a backup plan,” Priyanka says. “… Or three. I’ll leave you to it. Text-message me if you need anything.”

* * *

Alone in the parking lot, under the veil of twilight, might have been romantic, were it not for the problem at hand.

“Like, the last resort could just be a smash-and-grab,” Connie suggests. “We’ll put on balaclavas, get Lion to teleport into the quarantine rooms, poof, bubble, and teleport out?”

“That’ll attract a lot of attention,” Steven says,

* * *

“How about we fuse, make a fake name tag, put on a lab coat and get in that way?” Steven suggests.

Connie gives a non-committal grunt. “Making a fake name tag would be hard. Besides, we would probably have more luck with distracting the guards and then have a few Clonnies sneak in and do the deed.”

“Do you think Clonnies can fight Gem Mutants?” Steven asks.

“They can if we give them real circlets.”

“Point.”

* * *

“Apropos distractions, I bet we could really freak out whatever guards they have if I duplicated them and made a clone right next to them,” Connie says and giggles.

Steven looks at Connie in horror.

“Too morbid?”

Steven nods.

* * *

“OK, so, we _could_ go raid Amethyst’s costume stash and find a three-piece-suit for Stevonnie, and then make a fake badge, and pretend to be a federal agent,” Connie says.

“Yeah, same problem as the fake name tag, though.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

“Hundreds of Clonnies. Storm the place,” Connie says.

“Nah… Or— maybe? Let’s put it on the pile.”

* * *

“We could wait for the Gems to come back?” Steven suggests.

“Thats… Actually not a bad plan,” Connie says. “We are in over our heads on this one.”

She pulls out her phone and texts Priyanka.

> 
>         
>                                      Connie:
>        How urgent is it that we take care of
>                             the gem mutants?
>     
>     Mother:
>     Honestly I don't know. Not like
>     they are violent or troublesome.
>     Model patients, really.
>     
>                                      Connie:
>      Our best plan yet is to simply wait for
>        the gems to come back. We'll keep you
>                                      posted.
>     
>     Mother:
>     Sounds reasonable. Good luck.
>       

* * *

When additional ideas fail to present themselves, Connie and Steven finally give up.

“So, if we’re just going to wait around anyway, how about we actually go take a look?” Connie suggests.

Steven cocks his head. “We can do that?”

“Sure, hospitals are open to the public. Well, maybe we can’t actually go see those things,” Connie explains. “They’ll probably be in a private wing.”

“Actually, I’ve never been to a real hospital. Wanna give me a tour?”

Connie’s eyes light up.

* * *

Hospitals — no matter how many medical TV shows one consumes — are awe-inspiring in subtle ways. Huge buildings, pervaded by a certain atmosphere.

The smell of disinfectants. The quiet. The solemnity. Especially when the sky outside is darkening; the bright fluorescent lighting creates a stark contrast.

“Woo~w,” Steven says quietly.

“This is just the lobby,” Connie says, with a snicker.

They walk past the empty reception desk. Back behind the counter, a door is open to what appears to be a break room.

Steven walks up to the counter, and looks over it. He heaves himself onto it to get a better view.

“That’s the reception desk…”

“I know,” Steven says and drops back down. “I just wanted to see what it looks like behind one.”

They continue down the hallways.

“What’re these colored lines on the floor for?” Steven asks.

“For finding one’s way to the different parts of the hospital,” Connie says. “Easier to follow than signage.”

Doctors mill about, nurses walk to and fro. Signs tell of Intensive Care Units and Emergency Rooms and Operating Rooms and Radiology, and the Department of Diagnostic Medicine.

“Big place,” Steven says. “Where are we going?”

Connie stops. “Yeah, good question. I was thinking of trying to find the Gem mutants, but if we just wander around we might have to search the whole hospital.”

“Why don’t we ask your mom?”

Connie pinches the bridge of her nose. “Why didn’t _I_ think of that?” she says and pulls out her phone.

> 
>         
>                                 Connie:
>         We wanna take a look at the Gem
>              mutants. Is that possible?
>     
>     Mother:
>     Yes. They're on the seventh floor
>     in the north wing. Minimum security
>     quarantine section. You can't miss
>     it.
>     
>     Mother:
>     I checked in earlier today. The
>     only patients in there are the
>     Gem mutants. You can sneak in
>     safely, I suppose.
>     
>     Mother:
>     ... I can't believe I just told
>     you to trespass.
>       

Connie pockets her phone, takes Steven by the hand and heads for the elevators. Out the corner of his eye, he spots a curious sign.

“It says no cell phones allowed,” Steven says and points.

Connie shrugs. “That’s an unsubstantiated ban.”

“Meaning?”

“Supposedly it’s in place to prevent cell phones from interfering with the equipment, but cell phones can’t do that, so…” Connie says. It’s a rant her mother once gave when asked the same question.

(Really, the best way for doctors to stay updated while at work is through their cellphones.)

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

They reach the elevators, near the entrance — four adjacent bright, huge, red elevator doors. Connie pushes the ‘up’ button. Within twenty seconds one arrives.

“This is one big elevator,” Steven remarks with wonder.

“Fast too,” Connie adds and sends them to the seventh floor.

* * *

In the privacy of the elevator, Connie pulls Steven close and kisses him.

* * *

They reach the seventh floor, and the seriousness of the mission reinstates itself. The elevator doors open, and Steven holds Connie back on a hunch.

Then, when it feels right, Steven gives the go-ahead and they sneak out of the elevator. In the brief window of opportunity they slip past a doctor checking his cellphone, who would have otherwise spotted them. They duck into an orthogonal corridor and continue towards the north wing, heads down, with quick, quiet steps.

A nurse emerges from a room and they hug the wall, staying in his blind spot as he walks past them checking his phone.

They evade the prying eyes of a family coming to visit a patient when Connie pulls Steven into an empty room.

Standing there, concealed by the open door, Connie gives Steven a thumbs-up. Steven makes an OK-gesture and winks at her.

The family passes by their hiding place and they continue.

Four such encounters and miraculous feats of stealth later, they finally reach the minimum-security quarantine wing. It has a pair of big automatic doors with a ventilation chamber in between them — not quite an airlock, but good enough for minimum security.

Connie nudges the door-opening button with an elbow, and the double doors open outwards.

They dart in, and Connie presses the open-door button inside. The open doors behind them slide shut, and a brief ‘ _woosh_ ’ noise signifies the air inside the chamber being cycled; then the inner doors open.

The quarantine area looks exactly the same as the rest of the hospital, and holds maybe eight patient’s rooms and a minimal operating room. It is a single hallway, turning a corner, with doors on either side and windows into each room beside each door.

The stretch of hallway visible from the airlock is clear.

“I thought I just heard the door,” someone says from around the bend.

Steven and Connie share a brief look, then look around for a hiding place: on either side of them are hospital rooms with closed doors — no obvious way to get in one without making a noise.

Steven pulls Connie back into the closing airlock and they squat down under the window in the door.

The guard comes around the corner and stops.

“Is anyone there? This is a quarantine.”

Steven and Connie hear her approach and wait with bated breath.

“Sir, are you all right?” the other guard can be heard rom around the bend.

Then, a thump comes from down the hallway, and the footsteps stop. “What was that, Mark?”

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down. Sara, get over here!” the other guard can be heard saying.

“What’s going on?” the first guard, apparently named Sara calls back.

“The big guy just started acting funny suddenly.”

Saved by fate, Connie and Steven breathe a sigh of relief. Steven peeks through the window and catches a glimpse of the guard named Sara turning the bend — rubber gloves, surgical mask, foot covers, hairnet and a blue jacket over some uniform.

Connie presses the door-opening button, just in time to have the click of the doors’ action be obscured by another thump. “Sir!” the female guard calls out.

“ _Something is going on here,_ ” Steven whispers to Connie.

She nods.

“Sir, you have to remain in your room!”

A louder thump comes, now accompanied by a creaking sound. Shortly thereafter a loud scrape is heard.

“Sir, please refrain from damaging the door.”

“You too, ma’am.”

A horric screetch fills the hallway.

“Holy moly!”

Connie and Steven look at each other. Filled with determination, they nod in sync.

Steven manifests his shield. Connie unrolls the tarp, unsheathing the sabre and palming the baton.

Glass shatters, spurring them into action. They dash around the bend and take in the scene.

The two guards are standing back-to-back in the middle of the hallway, hands on their service pistols.

On one side of the hallway, a door has been deformed by a blow from within. On the other… _Something_ has shattered the window and is crawling out, onto the _ceiling._

That Something is clad in a hospital gown over a mishmash of muddy colors, out of which poke way too many arms in odd directions, alignments and chiralities. Its palms seem to stick to the walls like a gecko’s.

A backwards-turned digitigrade foot with three clawed fingers grasp the window sill, and cuts itself on a piece of glass, sending out puffs of iridescent smoke.

The door on the other side buckles under another heavy blow.

With a fierce strike, the many-limbed horror rakes a clawed hand across the window sill, ripping the glass out of the rubber seal holding it in place. The same hand proceeds to rake the remnants of the entire window out.

“You two!” Steven calls out. “Get over here!”

The guards look in their direction, still frozen in place.

“Now!” Connie yells, and flicks her baton open, held in the off hand.

That breaks the woman out of her paralysis, and she grabs her partner by the hand, and runs, pulling him with her. They run past Steven and Connie, and come to a stop against the wall.

“What—” the man begins, but is interrupted by the creature still locked in landing another blow on its door, finally breaking the lock. The crash is deafening, as the door buckles through the frame and is thrown across the hall.

“Draw your weapons!” Connie commands.

The woman complies, drawing and cocking her pistol. The man follows suit.

“What _are_ these things?” The man asks.

“Monsters,” Connie says.

The many armed thing continues its careful crawl onto the ceiling. From within the other room, a lumbering brute emerges — it too in a hospital gown.

It is more humanoid, but one of its arms is more of a bludgeon with fingers than anything else, and is so long its fingertips rest on the floor. The cluster of forcefully fused shards sits in the middle of a big bulge where the head ought to be.

“… And we are monster hunters. More or less.”


	74. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Violence, death and injury.

If it wasn’t for the situation at hand, the guard named Sara would drop some sort of quip. She always was the funny one of the pair.

The lumbering brute stops and turns towards the four of them. It emits a low rumble.

“Hold your horses,” Steven says, and holds up his free hand.

“What is it, Steven?” Connie says.

“We don’t know what they want. Let’s not attack them unless—”

The brute suddenly breaks into a run towards them, and Steven reflexively wraps them all in a bubble. It slams into the pink forcefield with its hammer-fist, sending ripples through the bubble.

“— Unless they attack?” Connie finishes. She pulls off the circlet and hands it to Steven, drops her bag, and fishes the duplicator wand out from under her shirt.

She hands that to Steven too. He slips the circlet down around his wrist, and takes the wand.

The wall-climber drops onto the bubble from above, but fails to gain traction on the slippery forcefield. It slides down to one side, blocking the path to the airlock.

With both weapons drawn, Connie turns around, takes a practiced combat pose, and closes her eyes. Steven flicks the wand at her, capturing her image. She spins around, swapping wand and circlet for the baton, putting the circlet back on.

The whole time without the safety of the circlet over her head tallies to less than a second.

Steven spins the baton, and decides to keep it at hand.

Picking up the bag and slinging it over her head again, Connie twirls the duplicator wand.

“You two, stay behind us,” Steven says.

“If they manage to get past us, shoot them,” Connie adds.

She drops into a combat stance, facing the many-armed mutant. Steven grows his shield to double size and puts it between himself and the brutish one.

“Drop the bubble,” Connie says.

* * *

With a demonstrative swing of his baton arm, Steven makes the bubble bulge outwards before exploding — a trick he picked up just a few weeks prior. Many-arms, by virtue of being lighter is sent tumbling back. Hammer-hand just staggers back half a dozen feet.

Immediately, Connie flicks the wand, creating three Clonnies. They take barely a tenth of a second to open their eyes, identify the enemy and lunge. Connie spares no time and immediately starts filling the hallway with Clonnies, intending to overwhelm her opponent with sheer numbers.

* * *

Hammer-hand is quick on the uptake and sends another devastating blow towards Steven. It impacts the shield without as much as moving Steven an inch — but serves to reflect the energy of the punch directly back into the club-like fist. The recoil sends the massive form off balance and Steven lunges forward into a leg-grab.

The lumbering monstrosity weighs upwards of three hundred and fifty pounds — the hospital staff had enormous difficulty carting it around.

Steven lifts it clean off the floor and slams it down on its back, clattering the doors in the entire hallway.

* * *

The Clonnies pile onto Many-arms. It struggles and grapples and succeeds in throwing a handful of its assailants off with enough force to impact the walls, but it is of little use. For every Clonnie knocked out, two takes its place.

It tries to shake loose and head for the ceiling, out of reach. Leaping with great force, it manages to gain air, and gets a hand to the ceiling. No sooner than that, twelve Clonnies are launched — by leg-ups from their buddies on the floor — onto it. The cumulative weight proves too much, and the ceiling panel buckles, sending the monster and its dozen hanger-ons tumbling down.

* * *

Steven tackles the supine mutant, landing on its chest. It’s massive arm comes back in an attempt to knock him off, but once more the shield is in the way. Unfortunately, Steven has chosen to shrink it down for better mobility and the massive double set of fingers wrap around the edges of the shield.

Steven grips the baton and lashes out with a devastating blow at the more feeble looking of the two elbows in the hammer arm. A sickening crack sounds, and the arm buckles.

The monster writhes under him, and with the same force, he lands the butt of the baton’s handle a few inches from the thing’s Gem. The jolt of the impact sends a spasm through the big fella.

Steven draws back, and brings down the baton again in a powerful blow. “Poof, dammit! Please!” The mutant’s body flickers. Steven readies another blow.

* * *

Upwards of thirty Clonnies, some bruised, some battered, some with broken bones and some entirely new, dogpile the mutant. Then they start stabbing. Sabre after sabre is readied and thrust down through the surprisingly resilient flesh.

It takes no more than for two of the sharp blades to enter deep into its torso before it destabilizes and poofs.

* * *

By the fourth blow, the damage around the Gem finally proves too much for the bigger mutant to handle, and it too destabilizes. Steven falls through where it used to be and lands on his hands and knees, panting.

His heavy breathing is not so much from the exertion, but from the sheer violence of what he has just done. _I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this. I’m sorry I had to hurt you like that._ He looks at the baton in his hand in disgust.

Catching his breath, he bubbles the small cluster of shards and sends it to the temple.

Down the other leg of the hallway, a Clonnie sporting a nasty black eye hands a similar shard cluster to Connie. She takes it and walks back to check on Steven.

“Are you alright?” She asks when she finds Steven not on his feet.

Steven turns to look at her. “Yeah. I think so. You?”

“Not a scratch. Although it did take out a few Clonnies.”

Steven nods. Connie tosses the shard cluster to him, and he catches it in a bubble, and sends it to the temple as well.

She walks up to him and offers him a hand. He takes it and they pull him to his feet.

“Uh, Connie?” one of the Clonnies call out.

“Coming!” Connie responds and darts back.

The hallway she left behind is filled with Clonnies, most of them far from unhurt — broken bones, bruises, concussions and dislocations abound.

It smells like blood and vomit.

Some are leaning on the walls others are sitting on the floor, only a few are standing. Too many are lying on the floor, some breathing, some not, some in pools of blood — having sliced themselves on sabres.

The background noise is a cacophony of groans, weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Connie pales at the sight.

One of the more uninjured ones limp up to her. “So… Um. That didn’t go so well.”

Connie nods weakly, taking in the horrifying sight. _This could be me. If I ever screw up, I will die._

One particular clone catches her attention. She lies curled up in fetal position, skewered with what is presumably her own sabre. Connie looks down at the blade in her hand, but dares not even think of it. She grips it tight.

Then she starts unmaking the duplicates, while Steven goes up to the two guards.

“Are you two alright?” he asks.

The two, huddled up in the corner look from him, to Connie, then to each other.

“Yeah… We’re— We’re unhurt,” Mark says. Sara is more or less clinging to his arm in horror.

“Good,” Steven says. Connie finishes unmaking the last Clonnie and turns to Steven.

“I—” Connie says, and her voice falters. “We should leave,” she finally manages.

“Wait— this is a quarantine, you can’t just—” Sara begins, taking a step forward. Mark interrupts her by grabbing her arm.

“You’re free to go,” he says.

“But— Protocol requires—” she protests.

“ _Let it go,_ Sara,” he hisses.

Connie elbows the door-opening button, and the airlock door swings open behind her.

Steven turns and joins her. Connie picks up the sheath and the tarp, Steven hands over the baton, and they join hands. As they enter the airlock, Steven turns back to the two guards.

“Have a great weekend!” he calls out, but not with feeling.

* * *

They walk through the hospital corridors, clutching one another tightly.

The images of herself maimed runs through Connie’s mind.

The stark realization that Steven has the capacity for violence fills his.

Her phone vibrates.

* * *

Priyanka walks hurriedly towards the elevators — you don’t run in a hospital, lest people run after you.

It couldn’t be a coincidence that Connie and Steven went, and shortly after she heard a muffled crash.

Whatever caused that must have been deafening up close. Nervously she checks her phone again.

> 
>         
>                               Priyanka:
>                I just heard there was a
>              disturbance on the seventh
>                    floor. Was that you?
>     
>                               Priyanka:
>                  I sure hope you didn't
>                         break anything. 
>       

If Doug was here he would say it was so like her. To use her mother-knows-best tone even though she has probably never been more worried for her daughter’s well-being.

> 
>         
>     Connie:
>     We snuck into the quarantine.
>     
>     Connie:
>     The mutants attacked as soon as
>     we came in. We defeated them pretty
>     easily and saved the two guards.
>     
>     Connie:
>     Sorry for causing a ruckus.
>     We're both alright.
>     
>                               Priyanka:
>                                     ...
>     
>                               Priyanka:
>          Well, as long as you are safe.
>     
>                               Priyanka:
>          I'll be home as soon as I can.
>        If your father isn't home, order
>             takeout for you and Steven.
>     
>     Connie:
>     :-O
>     
>     Connie:
>     Thanks mother!
>     
>                               Priyanka:
>         But don't think you are off the
>      hook young lady. I want to talk to
>          you  about what happened today
>                       once I know more.
>       

She breathes a sigh of relief, but continues making her way to the seventh floor — there will be damage to inspect and people to convince.

Hopefully that veil of secrecy the Gems mentioned will be to her advantage.

* * *

Connie pockets the device. The tone of her texts couldn’t be further from how she really feels — a honed skill.

“Are you alright?” Steven asks.

Connie shakes her head.

“Me neither.”


	75. Child Soldiers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Now available on TVTropes](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/TheWorldIsYourOysterTheUniverseIsYourNamesake)

It’s a short trip on lionback to the Maheswaran house. Connie hugs Steven tightly the entire way.

They arrive in the backyard. Connie unlocks the back door, and Lion lies down on the patio.

Steven ends up ordering pizza — a no-no in the Maheswaran house.

“You’ve barely said anything,” Steven says. Neither of them have really touched their food either. It’s almost seven o’clock.

Connie stares at her pizza.

“Did you see how many of them died?” she whispers.

Steven recalls vividly. “Yeah, I saw.”

“Any one of those could be me.”

“Connie…” Steven coos.

Tears gather in Connie’s eyes. “No. That time in the sky arena, I should have taken it as a warning. I don’t want to watch myself die… I can’t.”

Steven puts a hand on her shoulder. “Maybe Pearl can find a way to make them poof instead?”

Connie nods weakly.

* * *

Connie proves inconsolable. Steven resorts to carrying her into the living room, wrapping her in a blanket, turning on the TV, and going through the house in search of a tub of ice cream.

He finds it in a big freezer in the basement. Vanilla.

They watch some sitcom about monsters living underground. It is moderately entertaining, but not really something to watch without following it.

Connie cries big blubbering tears into the ice cream, and Steven can do naught but sit there with an arm around her.

Some thirty minutes of strange prime time TV later, Connie has cried herself to sleep, head resting on Steven’s shoulder. Not wanting to move, Steven has left the remaining ice cream to melt in its tub.

The TV is muted, tuned in to a talk show with no subtitles. Steven is staring at the ceiling.

It’s almost eight o’clock when there’s a key in the door. It’s Doug.

He comes in and as the first thing, sees Steven holding a finger to his lips. He forgoes his usual greeting.

“ _She’s all tuckered out, huh?_ ” he whispers with a smile.

Steven nods, but doesn’t smile back. Doug cocks his head to one side.

“ _Is everything alright, kid?_ ”

Steven shakes his head.

“ _Anything you wanna talk about?_ ”

Steven gives a one-shoulder shrug.

“ _I’ll just carry her upstairs and tuck her in—_ ”

Steven works one arm behind Connie and one under he knees, then effortlessly lifts her, before standing up himself with her in a bridal carry. Her head doesn’t even move from his shoulder.

Steven heads for the stairs. Doug stands there for a beat, before heading to the kitchen.

* * *

Connie barely stirs as Steven opens the door to her room, enters, and puts her down on the bed. With the greatest care, he relieves her of the blanket, and briefly considers undressing her — blushing profusely at the thought — but then just pulls her duvet over her.

Her cheeks are red and puffy still. Steven rubs his own eyes.

He stays there for a few moments, looking at Connie’s sleeping form, before heading downstairs again.

* * *

In the kitchen, Doug is brewing coffee. Steven comes in and sits down by the dining table.

“Coffee?” Doug offers.

“No thanks,” Steven mutters.

Doug pours himself a cup. “Anything else I can get you?”

“Water?”

Doug grabs a slice of room-temperature pizza, and goes to get Steven a glass. “I heard from Priyanka that there was a problem at the hospital you two helped out with?”

“Yeah. We fought some… Things,” Steven says. “Monsters.”

“Did you win?”

Steven shrugs. “I think we’d be dead otherwise so… Yeah. We did.”

Doug turns off the tab and looks at Steven for a beat. “That sounds… Scary as hell.”

“I don’t like hurting anyone,” Steven says. “I— It was some Gem monster things. We had to poof them. I got on top of one of them, and hit it in the… Face, I suppose, with Connie’s baton.

“I hit it a lot. It didn’t wanna poof.”

Doug takes a seat.

“Yeah,” he says. “Violence is a horrible thing.”

Steven looks up.

“Well…” Doug begins. “It’s just— There was this one time where I had to escort a trespasser away. He attacked me and I tazed him. He never hurt me or anything, but I didn’t sleep well for a week.”

He takes a sip of coffee. Steven takes a sip of water.

“Connie had it worse,” Steven continues. “She used the clones. It worked really well, but a lot of them died. Like, maybe twenty out of thirty.

“She’s been really upset about it ever since we came home; watching herself— no, _sending_ herself to die like that. I don’t like it either.”

Steven shudders. “I can still see that — dead Clonnies everywhere.”

There’s nothing to say for a good while after that. Steven doesn’t want to talk about it, and Doug doesn’t know what you say to the kid who has seen something like that. He definitely doesn’t wanna think about what his daughter must be feeling.

“I’ll call a therapist in the morning,” he eventually says.

Steven nods. “We should have waited for the Gems to come back. They could have…”

“Yeah. Well, it’s always obvious after the fact.” He glances at the pizza — almost untouched. Their lack of appetite is a testament to the kids’ emotional distress as well. “The Gems are out?”

Steven nods.

“You can stay here overnight if you want.”

* * *

It takes some convincing, but eventually Doug agrees to let Steven sleep in Connie’s room. Initial reluctance is defeated by Steven’s demeanor — like a hurt puppy but somehow _more pitiful_

Practical considerations — risking waking Connie — are swept aside when Steven dejectedly points out how he snuck into the quarantine wing of a hospital; and that he was able to carry her up to her room without waking her.

Doug fits Steven out with a spare mattress, a comforter and a pillow. While he has his objections to letting two almost-teenagers sleep in the same room… Well, they have done more intimate things already.

Priyanka comes home well past ten.

She looks worse than she ever did cramming for exams back in medical school. Back when they had just met. She goes straight for the coffee pot.

“Where’s Connie?”

“Sleeping. I let Steven stay over since his… Since the Gems are out. I didn’t want him to be all alone, considering how he’s doing.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way I understand it, they fought some monsters. They won, but…”

“But what?”

“Connie used the clones. A lot of them died. She didn’t take it well. Not at all. When I came home she was asleep on the sofa — remember how she cried herself to sleep sometimes?”

Priyanka’s eyes widen.

They sit there in silence for a while.

“Pizza, huh? I suppose I can let that slide, given the circumstances,” Priyanka eventually says.

“Ice cream too,” Doug adds. “Though I think they only had a few scoops.”

Priyanka laughs dryly.

“Are you OK, dear?” he asks.

“No. No, I suppose I am not,” she says. “I was the one who got them into this. I asked them for help, and… I didn’t stop them when they wanted to take on the problem themselves, Doug.

“It’s my fault. I’m a poor excuse for a mother.”

Doug takes her hand and caresses it. “Hindsight, dear.”

“Yeah.”

Doug yawns. “You’re a good mother, Priyanka. Maybe even a great one. Certainly better than mine.”

She snickers and rubs her eyes. “We should go to bed as well.”


	76. Good Morning

It’s well past nine when Connie wakes. She has vague memories of night terrors but it is almost as if they have been kept at bay for most of the night.

The reason why quickly makes itself evident, as she takes in the state of things: First, she is still dressed in her clothes from yesterday. Second, she has no memory of how she ended up in her own room after falling asleep next to Steven on the couch. Third, Steven is lying in bed next to her — similarly in yesterday’s clothes — sleeping with a peaceful expression on his face.

Nothing like a loved one holding nightly vigil to keep the bad dreams at bay. She blushes furiously.

She sits up, careful not to wake Steven and runs a hand through her hair — a frizzed, knotted mess of what used to be a braid. The circlet is still in place on her head.

On the floor, next to her bed lies a mattress with a folded blanket and an unused pillow.

 _Oh my,_ Connie thinks. _He somehow convinced my parents to let him sleep in my room!_

It is far from the worst thing; in fact she is _very_ OK with this situation.

Not knowing what to do with herself, she looks at him and basks in the small rush.

She reaches out to caress his cheek. While she did not intend to wake him, the touch sends a small jolt through Steven. He looks around, startled, and sees Connie smiling at him.

“Good morning,” she says.

“’Morning,” he mumbles back.

They gaze into one another’s eyes, and Steven comes to share Connie’s blush. Then Connie looks out the window — at sunlight from clear skies — and the realization that she has overslept dawns on her.

“Oh noo~,” she groans.

“What is it?”

Connie rolls into a crouch, putting both hands on the footboard of her bed, and continues into a well-executed handspring out of bed.

“We overslept! I’m late for school!” Connie says, with rising panic.

Behind her, Steven notices the notification light blinking on her phone and grabs it. “Your phone—” he tosses it to her and she catches it without looking.

She unlocks it to find new texts.

> 
>         
>     Father:
>     After yesterday, your mother and
>     I thought it would be wise if you
>     took a day off so we called you in 
>     sick.
>     Have a great day, sweetie, and get
>     well soon.
>     Love, father.
>     
>       

Connie breathes a sigh of relief and types up a reply.

> 
>         
>                                7:55 AM
>     ----------------------------------
>     9:23 AM
>                                Connie:
>                     Thanks, father. <3
>     
>       

“What’s up?” Steven asks.

“I don’t have to go to school,” Connie explains.

Then the realization strikes her properly: “I don’t have to go to school!” she repeats, and thrusts both her arms overhead in excitement.

“That’s great!” Steven says. “We can hang out all day!”

Connie kisses him on the cheek. “Anyway, there’s another text message from my mother. One second…”

> 
>         
>     Mother:
>     I heard what happened from your
>     father. I am so sorry for allowing
>     you to get in danger.
>     And don't worry about the pizza or
>     the ice cream. It was well
>     deserved.
>     Lots of love, mother.
>     
>       

The tone catches Connie a little off guard: she was expecting to be admonished for recklessness… Or for eating junk food, at the very least.

> 
>         
>                                8:12 AM
>     ----------------------------------
>     9:23 AM
>                                Connie:
>                   It's not your fault.
>     
>       

Connie hesitates a little, then adds:

> 
>         
>                                Connie:
>           You're still the best mother
>             in the world, don't worry.
>     
>       

“So?” Steven asks, and gets up to stretch.

Connie smacks her lips. “I need to brush my teeth… Among other things.”

“… Are— Are you feeling OK?” Steven asks tentatively.

She shrugs. “Maybe. I’ve been worse. You being here helps.”

Steven nods and smiles.

“What about you?” she asks.

He shrugs. “I’ll manage.”

Steven trods to the window and looks into the backyard. Lion looks like it hasn’t moved since yesterday — still lying on the Patio, but now basking in the sunlight.

“You’re thinking of going home?” Connie asks.

Steven nods. “Just for a change of clothes.”

“So you’ll come back?” Connie asks. “And we could eat breakfast together?”

Steven turns to her with a warm smile. “Sounds good,” he says and walks back to her. He kisses her on the cheek, and they head downstairs.

* * *

Connie’s otherwise smooth morning routine is disrupted near the end when she reaches for the duplicator wand.

She has been using Clonnies for doing her hair ever since she started thinking of new ways to use an extra self.

There’s some amount of unease associated with the whole thing now.

 _There’s nothing to be afraid of,_ she tells herself. _I am at home, and it is safe._

She ends up brushing and braiding her hair manually. It doesn’t turn out quite as well.

* * *

The beach house is exactly as Steven left it, up to and including the note he has left the Gems. He crumbles it up and throws it away.

 _Come back soon,_ he thinks, and stares wistfully at the warp pad.

Then he pulls the pink t-shirt over his head and drops it in the laundry bin, before heading to the bathroom.

* * *

Connie is alone in the kitchen, making breakfast for the both of them. Toast, eggs, tea, fresh fruit.

It’s slow going, compared to having two helpers; and it is not as fancy either. But: every skill of every Clonnie, Connie has had to learn first.

(Steven has offered to help, but she declined. Even when he tickled her.)

“So, I’m thinking we should ask Pearl about stuff,” Steven says.

“Yeah?”

“Like, if we could get a duplicator wand where the Clonnies would poof—” he stops at the sound of Connie inhaling sharply.

“… Sorry,” he mutters.

Connie sighs. “No, it’s— _I_ am sorry. I’m not thinking straight, it’s like I keep…” She hugs herself and looks down. “That sight of myself. Dead.”

Steven gets from his seat and crosses the distance to her in three quick steps, then pulls her into a tight hug.

“It’s gonna be alright, Connie.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

It is almost too cold for breakfast on the patio. If it wasn’t for the sun, they would be eating inside.

“Do you know what the worst part is?” Connie asks.

Steven looks at her with a horrified expression.

“Oh, no. Don’t— I mean…. The worst part is that you’re not doing well either, and I’m hogging the spotlight.”

“You have it worse,” Steven says. “I’m magic. I’ve been going on missions since I was eleven.”

“Yeah, but there’s still something bothering you,” Connie says.

Steven looks down at his plate. “I hit that thing with your baton — again and again — until it poofed.”

Connie puts a hand on his.

“Am I turning into what my mom wanted me to be?” he mutters. “A… a warlord?”

She shakes her head. “Just that you feel bad about it that way means you’re not. They were suffering, I think. We put them to rest, right?”

Steven nods. “I don’t think I like fighting very much,” he mutters.

“Yeah. It does get easier with practice, I think,” she says. “But I’m not sure that is a good thing. You just kind of get desensitized to the violence.”

“How come you are so good?”

Connie shrugs. “I’ve got more to be angry about, I guess. How my parents used to treat me, bullying in school, having no friends… It wasn’t fun. Then you came along and things got a little better.”

Steven smiles.

“But learning how to fight was something else. Suddenly I have a _use_ for all this… All my anxiety and all the jeers the other girls in school throw at me, they don’t matter when I’m holding a sword.”

Steven cocks his head and furrows his brow. “Why are the other girls mean to you?”

Connie shrugs. “Because they are a bunch of wads, and because I don’t fight back? I don’t know.”

Steven furrows his brow. It’s a novel problem to him. “Maybe they are just not friendly people. Like Lars.”

Connie raises an eyebrow. “Lars? _Really?_ ”

Steven shrugs. “Yeah. Lars might seem mean at first, but really he just wants people to like him…

“Maybe they are like that? I don’t know a lot about bullying.”

Connie shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s it. Madeleine and Esmée are popular girls. Everybody likes them, even the teachers.”

They eat in silence for a little while.

“If those mean girls bully you again, tell me,” Steven says. “I’ll tape Lion Lickers to their backs and let Lion chase them around.”

Connie snorts, begins laughing and almost chokes on her toast.

* * *

They finish breakfast, and Steven helps fill the dishwasher.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Steven asks.

Connie shrugs.

“What do you usually do for fun around here?” he asks

“Read. Play the violin. Sword practice…” she says.

Steven nods. “I can spend all day fooling around or watching TV… You’re always so productive, Connie. How _do_ you do it?”

“Do what?” Connie asks.

Steven gestures at her. “That.”

Connie looks down herself. “… That’s all of me,” she giggles. “I don’t know. Maybe I get it from my parents — so how about we do something you find fun?”

“Like what?”

“Why don’t we take a ride to Beach City and see what happens?”


	77. Saving the World on Your Day Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay. There has been some re-writing to do.
> 
> Go re-read from Chapter 67. Your mind will be blown.

Connie sits astride Lion in front on their trip to Beach City, with Steven’s strong arms wrapped around her waist.

They emerge from the portal onto the beach, and Lion’s paws strike the sand as the big creature slows to a more gradual halt than usual.

Steven jumps down and offers a hand to Connie like a proper gentleman. The facade of propriety quickly break down and they giggle and kiss.

They go, hand in hand, up to the beach house in the fresh morning air. Connie wears a light jacket over a yellow dress and her beloved red boots. Steven opted for a gray hoodie over his usual getup this morning.

(Steven has never owned a hoodie before, and is not quite sure how five of them ended up in his closet, but it fit the weather. Steven has furthermore decided that he likes hoodies.)

(Flip-flops don’t fit the weather, but he wears them anyway.)

Inside is as it always was, and there is no sign of the Gems.

“When do you think they will be back?” Connie asks.

Steven shrugs. “At this point, I’m not really gonna take a guess.”

“Maybe they already came back and went into the temple?”

They go up to the Temple door, and Steven **opens** it, bathing them in pink light. “Room, I wish for tiny floating whale.”

The little creature appears in the doorway.

“Are Garnet, Amethyst or Pearl somewhere in the Temple?”

After a brief pause it replies: “Neither Garnet, Amethyst, nor Pearl are to be found in any of the Temple chambers.”

“OK, That will be all,” Steven says to the whale, and lets the door close again.

“Eh, it was worth a shot,” Connie says.

Steven turns away from the portal and rubs his chin. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

Connie giggles.

“Also, I was thinking of something my dad said to me once.

“He said that when stuff is getting you down, and there are problems that seem too hard to solve, a good way to get up again is to do small easy tasks, because then you have some victories to get started.”

Connie breaks in: “— And while there’s not really a big problem at hand, what you’re saying is that fixing small problems might be fun, uplifting, and profitable?”

He nods. “More or less, yeah.”

“Speaking of your dad,” Connie says. “I got some of your memories, I think, and it seems like he is kind of in bad shape.”

Steven looks at her quizzically.

“Like, how old is he?”

Steven counts on his fingers. “He’s in his late forties at least.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“It’s just, my father is like, forty-five, and he’s fit and stuff. Your dad — it kinda seems like he’s got some pains and limited mobility… Like he’s getting old a little quicker.”

Steven nods thoughtfully. “There might be something about that— I know he tries to hide it, but sometimes he’s in pain. Sometimes a lot.”

“Yeah, that’s what I remember too!” Connie says.

“So what do we do?”

Connie grins. “Healing water is what.”

* * *

“Aren’t your parents kind of against this?” Steven says as they walk through the garden of living rose bushes.

“Maybe. Personally, I trust mom more than my mother. I mean, sure, mother is a doctor, but mom? Magical space queen biologist. Probably safe to trust her on matters of magical healing water. No?”

Steven chuckles.

“What?”

“You called Rose Quartz ‘mom,’ there.”

Connie blushes, and giggles. “Yeah, I guess I did. That must have rubbed off on me last time we were Stevonnie. Speaking of… That’s another thing we could do today too; I mean, if the mood strikes.”

“Yep. But… I kinda wanna look at you for a little while,” Steven says and gives her hand a squeeze and smiles at her.

They reach the fountain and Steven takes off the cheeseburger backpack, and rummages through it for the mason jar.

* * *

They warp back to the beach house, and huddle on the sofa — discussing strategy before heading out.

“So, we get this to my dad and convince him to drink it, and that ought to fix at least _something,_ ” Steven reiterates. He turns the mason jar over in his hand.

“Fixed me up pretty well,” Connie says. “Both of us, even.”

Steven nods and winces at the memory. “We got our butt kicked. And they were holding back too,” he says and snorts.

“Yeah,” Connie says pensively.

“Oh…” Steven says, picking up on her reaction immediately. “I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have brought that up.”

Connie shakes her head, shaking off the gloom, then takes a deep breath. “OK, what else— how about Ronaldo?”

“What about him?” Steven asks and puts the jar down.

“He needs a tin foil hat. And we should probably tell him we might have mind-whammied him as Stevonnie…”

Steven nods solemnly. “We _did_ do that.”

Connie leans back in the sofa. “Then maybe we could hang out with your friends? I’d like to talk to Lars, about why he’s mean. And… Come to think of it, I’ve never actually been introduced properly. To _any_ of them.”

Steven chuckles. “Almost like Garnet. I didn’t even know she was a fusion.”

Connie giggles. “I know! That’s a _really_ bad habit. Let’s not get into that.”

“She told me Ruby thought it was really frustrating that I found out, because it was her idea for it to be a birthday surprise,” Steven says.

Connie snorts. “Really?”

“We’re trapped on an enemy spaceship, she is separated from Sapphire, and just as the day can’t get any worse for her, _I_ come walking by.”

She starts laughing in earnest.

“I remember what she said — she was all ‘don’t look at me!’ — but knowing the reason why, it’s a lot funnier to imagine what she must have been thinking: ‘Oh great, _now_ what are we going to do for Steven’s birthday?!’ Never mind that we were all going to die, now she had to come up with a new thing to do for my birthday.”

By the end of Stevens little rant, Connie is in peals of laughter. “Oh, poor Ruby,” she manages.

* * *

They stroll down the beach, towards the car wash, hand in hand. The surf splashes lazily, and seagulls circle overhead. The ocean breeze is fresh and crisp.

They find Greg at the controls of the super-wash, with some red family van inside. He’s wearing the cherry-patterned sweater.

“Hi dad!” Steven calls out.

“Hello you two,” he says. “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

“That’s OK. We’ll be brief,” Connie says and clears her throat. “Mr. Uni— I mean Greg; do you suffer from any source of chronic pain or discomfort?”

Greg furrows his brow and looks away from the wash job again. “… What? Uh. I suppose, sometimes. It’s just a part of getting old… Why?”

Connie unzips the cheese pocket of Steven’s backpack and pulls out the jar. She grins and puts on her best saleswoman voice. “Introducing, Rose’s healing fountain waters. Capable of curing most ailments, as tested by, well… Us,” she says and gestures to herself and Steven. “And my mom is doing some animal experiments. So far as Steven and I know, it should make you feel a lot better.”

Greg looks at the jar, then takes it from Connie’s outstretched hand. “This is the stuff that was… Well, _one_ of the many topics of debate back a few weeks ago— the day with the duel and when Garnet broke the table?”

“Yeah,” Steven says.

“Huh.”

“What?” Connie asks.

“I had expected it to be more… I don’t know, _sparkly_ , I suppose.” He looks up and flicks a switch on the control panel, and the super-wash goes to the next stage in its wash cycle. “Didn’t Pearl say something to the effect that this didn’t work on humans? Or wasn’t supposed to at least?”

Steven and Connie look at each other. Steven shrugs. “I don’t know about that,” he says. “It does now. We had some when the Gems beat us up as Stevonnie. Worked really well that time. About as well as my healing spit.”

Greg nods appreciatively. “Well, if that is the case, I’ll be sure to sample it when my back starts hurting. If magic can fix a broken leg… Say, Connie, shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I got the day off,” she says.

“We fought some monsters all on our own yesterday,” Steven adds. “It was rough.”

Greg scratches his beard and looks troubled. “That sounds dangerous. The Gems couldn’t help you out?”

“We’re OK, dad,” Steven says. “It wasn’t the usual monsters the Gems fight.”

Greg nods, still with furrowed brow. “OK then. I’m glad you made it out unscathed. Anyway, I gotta get back to work, you two have fun.”

“We will,” Connie says and drags Steven away.


	78. Breaking and Entering

They are a few hundred feet down the road from the car wash when Connie finally speaks up. “Thanks.”

“What for?” Steven asks.

“For keeping your dad from asking about… Well.”

Steven gives her hand a squeeze. “No prob, Bob.”

* * *

The boardwalk is as dead as usual in the late autumn. There’s only a few out-of-town people come to enjoy the ocean view.

They head for the Fryman clan’s establishment and find Peedee manning the counter.

“Hello Steven, and…” He looks at Connie. “I don’t think we have been introduced.”

“Connie Maheswaran. You must be Peedee Fryman,” she says and holds out a hand.

Peedee shakes it. “Guilty as charged.”

“She’s from out of town,” Steven adds.

Peedee nods. “So, what will it be? Fry-bits? Something from the menu?”

“Actually, we came here looking for your brother,” Connie says.

Peedee raises an eyebrow. “OK? Well, he has the day off— I guess you could try at the lighthouse?”

“Thanks,” Steven says.

* * *

Lighthouse Park is more of an enormous lawn than a park, covering the hill that becomes the cliff the temple is built into. It is always neatly trimmed, and would be a more popular picnic location were it not for the rather sharp incline of every part of it, save near the top.

The lighthouse has been out of commission for some time — it still works, but is not in regular use. (GPS having taken up the mantle of keeping ships clear of the coastlines.)

(The Beach City Lighthouse is a tall tower atop a tall cliff to warn of the treacherous skerries and rocky reefs stretching far out to sea from Beach City.)

“There was a Gem up here,” Steven says.

“Yeah?”

“It controlled the whole building — made stuff fly around and the floor open up underneath you.

“If what Garnet said is true, the Gem there was what used to be Blue Diamond.”

“Scary.”

Steven nods. “Though not as scary as Evil Bear Two. I had nightmares about that movie for weeks, and I was just listening from behind the couch for most of it.”

They find the door locked.

“Shoot,” Steven mutters. “What do we do now?”

Connie walks around the little house that sits adjacent to the tower itself. “The top window is open,” she says and points. Steven comes up to her and looks: a small window in the dormer atop the roof is ajar.

“We need a ladder to reach that,” Steven says.

“Or—” Connie says, “— Or, you could boost me up the tower, I do a wall-run onto the roof, crawl in and unlock it from the inside?”

Steven nods and gauges the distance from the ground to the eave of the roof. “Actually, maybe I could jump up there and grab the edge, pull myself up.”

“You can do that?” Connie looks at him skeptically.

He shrugs. “Doesn’t seem like I couldn’t… It’s more of a gut-feeling though.”

Connie looks back up at the window. “In lieu of a ladder, we could also get the magic scaffold cube thing.”

Steven smacks his forehead. “Ugh, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Connie says. “I’m having fun. What else can we do to get in that window?”

“Well… There’s that noodly glass hose thing too. I bet we could toss one end through the window and then jump through it.”

Connie giggles. “That thing is _so_ weird. I still remember it vividly, you know?”

Steven nods.

They stare a little at the problem at hand again.

“OK,” Connie says, “boring and practical: text Ronaldo, ask him where he is?”

“Or we could pick the lock with a hairpin like Lisa always does in Unfamiliar Familiar,” Steven suggests.

Connie tilts her head. “I don’t know how to pick locks. Do you?”

“Nope!” Steven exclaims happily. “But we could _learn_ how to pick locks, then come back and pick it?”

Connie laughs. “We could also break down the door.”

“Or smash one of the lower windows…”

They stand there for almost another minute before admitting they can’t come up with another way into the lighthouse. (On the way back down to the beach house Steven suggests they put a grappling hook to the safety rail up by the lantern room.)

* * *

“OK, I have the scaffold,” Steven says, emerging from the closet, holding the gray, featureless cube aloft.

“We could also blow a hole in a wall with a light rifle,” Connie suggests.

Steven looks at her and narrows his eyes. “You’re kidding.”

Connie giggles. “Don’t tell me it wouldn’t work.”

* * *

They take another stroll, hand-in-hand, up Lighthouse Park. The scaffold handsomely provides a staircase to access the dormer window, and Steven packs it back up into a single cube from the roof.

“That thing is really useful,” Connie remarks once inside.

“Yeah. It’s a little unwieldy, though.”

They take a quick trip up the spiral staircase to the lantern room — the door is missing.

Inside is a strange sight. A large paper-recycling bin sits next to the door, full of paper shreds from an adjacent paper shredder. Empty bulletins on wheels sit in a corner, the file cabinets are empty judging from the open drawers, and the desk is littered with… Textbooks.

Ronaldo is nowhere to be found.

“He _really_ took our advice to heart, huh?” Connie says. Through a shared memory she recalls this place just as vividly as Steven.

Steven takes a walk around the lantern installment in the center of the room, while Connie looks at the books. They have titles like _Elementary Statistics and Probability_ , _The Skeptic’s Handbook_ , _Knowing What You Don’t Know: How Not to Jump to Conclusions_ , _A Brief History of Science_ , _A Not-So-Brief History of Science_ , _A Brief History of Time_ …

Only two of them have bookmarks in them; all of them are from a library.

On a low filing cabinet beside the desk there is the beginnings of a collection of rocks and crystals. An amethyst geode, a bismuth hopper crystal, and a chunk of frozen lava.

“Do you think he’s OK?” Steven asks aloud from the other side of the room.

“He’s reading science books. I don’t know if that constitutes being OK,” Connie answers.

“Do you think we… Hurt him?” Steven asks, concerned.

“We changed him,” Connie says and puts down the book. “That’s for sure.”

She walks around the central obstacle to him. Steven is staring at a bulletin board.

There is an assortment of clippings and photos on it. Some are stills from Ronaldo’s various web-exclusives where he actually caught Magic on tape. Some are pictures from his blog.

The clippings are mostly photocopies. One of them is the small article about the ocean disappearing.

Then there’s the stuff Steven doesn’t recognize: Cosmology articles from science magazines, a headline about _New findings in SETI (the Search for Extra Terrestrial Intelligence)_ , an article celebrating the anniversary for the eradication of smallpox, NASA press releases.

A slip of paper with ISBN numbers and book titles next to them: _The Cold War: Nuclear Arms Race and Mutually Assured Destruction_ , _How to Become a Tulpamancer_ , _The Selfish Gene_ , _The Placebo Effect_ , _Pseudosciences_ , _Freakonomics_ …

It is almost bare. There’s a few tacks connected with red yarn, but nothing like the spiderweb you would expect. Small post-it notes are attached to some items, almost all of them read ‘ _???_ ’.

“He’s still Ronaldo, at least,” Connie says.

Steven just reaches out and takes her hand.

* * *

The front door to the lighthouse has a spring latch, eliminating the need for egress through the dormer window.

> 
>         
>                           Steven:
>     Hi Ronaldo. Where are you at?
>     
>                           Steven:
>       I've been meaning to have a
>     chat with you about something
>                    magic related.
>     
>                           Steven:
>              Kinda urgent. Maybe.
>     
>       

Steven presses ‘send,’ pockets his phone, and turns to Connie. “We need to be more careful,” he says. “If Stevonnie can do this—” he hesitates. “What did we even do?”

Connie puts a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

“Was it wrong to do it?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “We meant nothing bad with it and a lot of people seemed worried about him before… We could ask Peedee if he is OK? Or— Kiki?”

Steven nods.

* * *

The Big Donut is conveniently located on the way to the fry shop. A donut has never not helped on Steven’s mood, and Connie has still never tasted one in person, separate from Stevonnie.

Heading there, they catch Lars leaving the shop.

“Hi Lars,” Steven calls out.

Lars turns around and spots them. He obligingly waits for them to come within range of pleasant conversation, albeit with an indifferent expression.

“Hi Steven. What do you two want?” he asks.

Connie clears her throat. “Lars, I’m Connie. I’m Steven’s… Girlfriend.”

Lars raises an eyebrow, looks at Steven, then back at her.

Connie continues: “I know we’re not ‘BFF’s’ like you and Steven—”

Lars snorts.

“— but can I ask you a personal question? Not _personal_ personal, but…”

Lars cocks his head to one side and squints. “You can ask, but I won’t answer if I don’t feel like it.”

“Why aren’t you nice to people?” Connie asks. “Not because we wanna try to convince you to be nice or anything. Just… _Why?_ ”

“Because I’m not,” he says. “Because it takes effort… I guess it’s just who I am. Now— I’d love to stay and chat, but I got a thing,” he says and points with a thumb.

“Thanks for humoring us, Lars,” Steven says.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lars says and turns to leave.

Connie looks at Steven.

Steven shrugs. “Eh, it was worth a shot. He’s not usually that sincere, either.”


	79. With Courage and Dedidcation, You Too Can Become a Crystal Gem

“Hello, Steven,” Sadie says from behind the counter.

“Sadie, my lady,” Steven says. “We have come for pastries and confections.”

Connie chuckles.

“Sure thing, goofball,” she says. “And you’re… Connie, right?” she asks.

“That would be me, yes.”

A half-dozen donuts and a handful of bills change hands.

“I saw you cornered Lars out there,” Sadie says. “What about, if I may ask?”

“His niceness level,” Connie says. “It’s unusually low for someone of his size. He did actually give an answer of sorts, but maybe you can shed some light?”

“On why he isn’t… Nice?” Sadie asks and furrows her brows.

“Yeah, it’s — there’s some mean girls at Connie’s school, and we’re trying to find out why they are,” Steven says. He hands Connie a classic chocolate glaze.

“Bullies,” Connie adds.

She takes a bite. It’s somewhat different from what Steven remembers; or even what Stevonnie remembers. It’s a lot less interesting, actually. _Perhaps it is an acquired taste?_

“Oh. Sympathies,” Sadie says. “But, I can tell you that Lars isn’t a bully. And I’m not just saying that because I’m his girlfriend. I would know if he was. He’s a good person; he just has some… Issues, to work through. A lot of issues.”

Steven nods in agreement.

Connie realizes the implications and looks up. “You’ve been bullied too?”

Sadie nods. “Well, until I got in a fight with them. It was a couple of boys back in elementary.”

“Why did they stop?” Connie asks.

“Well, I kicked their butts. And then when I came home with a black eye, my mom went ballistic.” Sadie says and chuckles.

Connie nods, but is less enthused. “My mother did that too. That made it worse,” she notes, grimly.

“Oh…” Sadie say. “Um, my condolences. But anyway, Lars? Not a bully. Abrasive and impolite to boot, though. Don’t know why I love him.” She shrugs.

Steven takes Connie’s hand and gives it a squeeze.

Sadie notices the gesture. “So, are you two— like, together?”

“Yeah,” Connie says.

“Well, you two look cute together, that’s for certain. Congratulations,” Sadie says.

* * *

“So, where do we look for Ronaldo next?” Connie asks.

“I don’t know, I kind of feel like going back to the temple,” Steven says. “It’s been a… Day.”

Hand in hand, and a donut in their other, they head back.

“I don’t think donuts are my thing,” Connie says.

Steven looks at her. “Really?”

She shrugs.

“Hm. All the more for me, then,” Steven says. He finishes his third donut, and Connie hands him the rest of her second one.

They have only just reached the ramp when the characteristic blue flash shines through the windows of the beach house.

“The Gems are back!” Steven exclaims.

“Great timing,” Connie says and sets into a run, pulling Steven after her.

* * *

They burst through the door, and see an unusual sight.

Garnet stepping off the warp pad, with Opal in a bridal carry — a remarkable feat considering the size differences, but one Garnet accomplishes with grace… And a little help from Opal, who has practically wrapped herself around Garnet.

Opal is missing her leg from the knee down — and numerous superficial injuries to boot. The wound is an iridescent purple of exposed alien flesh, and a clear liquid is slowly dripping from the larger ones.

Garnet herself is in bad shape too. Scraped, bruised, singed.

Opal notices the two kids and her eyes widen. “This is nothing to worry about,” she says in her deep sonorous voice, and laughs nervously. “Botched a dodge, but I’m OK, really.”

“She is,” Garnet adds.

Steven is first to shrug off his surprise. “Why aren’t you splitting up? Or poofing?”

Garnet gently lowers the giant woman to the floor, and she casually hefts herself up and into the beach house by the rafters. One hand holds her leg up, careful not to drip on the wooden floor.

“All it takes is a little… _Determination_ ,” Opal says and winks at Steven. “Besides, it’s fun to be me.”

Steven wastes no time spitting in his palm and stepping forward. Opal holds up a hand, stopping him. “Thanks, but no thanks. Pearl needs more practice recovering from injury and Amethyst has exactly that expertise.”

Steven nods, but looks concerned. He wipes his palm in his pants. “If you say so…”

“What happened out there? You were on a mission?” Connie asks.

“Something is stirring up trouble,” Garnet says. “There’s been an increase in monster activity lately — we went out to investigate, and ended up on an extended hunting trip.

“In the end we happened upon _that_ ,” she says and points to a bubble hovering near the ceiling that must have come with them when they warped in. She beckons it, and it floats down. Inside it is a hexagonal pyramid crystal giving off a soft glow.

“What is it?” Connie asks.

“An immensely magical prismatic conduit. Using this, a powerful Gem can create an entire army of light. It used to belong to one of White Diamond’s generals,” Garnet explains.

“We lost it a long time ago,” Opal adds.

Steven comes closer to get a better look. “Is it dangerous?”

“Not on it’s own, no,” Garnet says.

“Can I hold it, then?” he asks.

Opal chuckles. “Little man, you are a powerful gem too. What if you accidentally activated it?”

Steven pouts. Connie giggles.

“Anyway, this thing will sure come in handy one day,” Garnet says and sends the bubble into the temple. “What are you two little rascals up to?” she asks.

Connie and Steven look at each other and hesitate for a moment too long.

“Something’s wrong.” Garnet observers.

“Dr. Maheswaran found some Gem Mutants,” Steven says. “At the hospital. Someone thought they were… _people,_ and brought them to the hospital.”

“Oh no,” Opal says. “Garnet, we need—”

Garnet interrupts her, holding up a hand. “It’s been taken care of. Continue, Steven.”

“Well, she called Connie, and since you guys were out, we went to take a look. They attacked us, and we fought them…”

Both of the fusions are following his story intently. Steven stalls.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ there,” Opal says.

“Yeah. Well, we didn’t get hurt or anything. We won. Easily. But —” he looks at Connie. She’s as uncomfortable as him. He holds out a hand towards her and she comes up to him to take it. “It’s the Clonnies,” she says. “They died.”

Garnet looks at Opal.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Opal begins, “but isn’t that what they are for? You are just a weak and fragile human, Connie. Better the clones get mutilated than yourself, no?”

Steven cringes.

“Oh— I didn’t mean… I just assumed from what you told me, Connie— what you told Pearl, that you had the concepts straight? That mantra you created is really impressive.”

“I _do_ have the concepts straight,” Connie snaps. “I _know_ I can count on myself to— Count on myself to throw away my life! But every time I’ve wanted to use the wand since I woke up this morning, I can’t help but see them, see _me_ , dead!”

Opal bites a finger — better it in her mouth than another metaphorical foot. She looks at Garnet.

Garnet pushes off from the kitchen counter and goes up to Connie. She kneels down and puts a hand on Connie’s shoulder. “It’s OK, Connie. In fact, it is very normal. Death and violence are horrible things, and it is only right they disturb you. Even us Crystal Gems — hardened warriors — were like you once.”

Tears gather in Connie’s eyes. She wipes them away quickly. “But if I can’t make Clonnies, I’m not useful for anything, and that means I can’t go on magical adventures and help you fight the bad guys! I’ll just slow you down…”

“Well, technically,” Opal says, “any one of us can make Clonnies. It’s just more convenient for you to concentrate on it and provide new templates as the fight progresses—”

“Opal, shut up,” Garnet barks. Opal’s teeth click shut and she blushes with embarrassment, then goes back to biting her finger.

“Connie,” Garnet continues, “You mustn’t let your lack of battle experience deter you from fighting for what you believe in.

“It might seem like you can never again face the horrors of battle, but if you are willing to stand up for Earth and Humanity then that conviction will give you courage to overcome your fears.

“And you don’t have to bear the scars of battle alone. Steven has been here for you all day, and I promise you, you can always count on the Crystal Gems.

“In fact, I think it is high time you officially join us.”

Connie’s eyes widen.

“Whoa, really?” Opal exclaims. “Oh my stars!”

Garnet turns and looks at Opal, and may or may not shoot her a glare under the visor. “Wasn’t it _Amethyst_ who suggested it?”

“Well, yeah,” Opal admits. “But you and— Pearl were kind of reluctant about the idea, so— Amethyst just assumed— No… You call the shots, Garnet… And I heartily approve.”

Garnet snickers and stands. She takes a step back. “Connie Maheswaran.”

“Yes?” Connie asks.

“Do you wish to become a Crystal Gem?”

Connie wipes her eyes. Her grip on Steven’s hand tightens. “I do!” she says with renewed passion in her voice.

“Step forward.”

Connie lets go of Steven’s hand and takes a step towards Garnet.

Garnet speaks up with volume and presence befitting a veteran general. “Connie Maheswaran, being a Crystal Gem is a big responsibility. It is not a club of cool magic people — we are first and foremost a rebellion.”

Connie straightens up and clasps her hands behind her back. “I understand, Garnet. I do not come here seeking frivolity and distraction.”

Garnet crosses her arms. “Are you, Connie Maheswaran, willing to fight for the planet Earth and all life on it?”

Connie nods emphatically. “Yes I am! My planet, right or wrong; if right, to be kept right, if wrong, to be _set_ right!”

Garnet smiles. “Are you, Connie Maheswaran, willing to defend humanity — all humans, even those you don’t understand, even those that disagree with you, even those you hate?”

“Pick up my sword and lay down my life if need be,” Connie answers.

“Do you, Connie Maheswaran believe in a love, kindness, tolerance, and innate goodness of Humans and Gems alike that is beyond anyone’s control?”

Connie glances at Steven. “Yes. And I believe in Steven.” He blushes at her words.

“Are you, Connie Maheswaran, prepared to risk everything for the Earth, Humanity, and Love in all its forms?” Garnet asks.

“Everything and more,” Connie answers.

“Then, Connie Maheswaran,” Garnet says, “you are already a Crystal Gem!”

Opal starts clapping, and Garnet and Steven soon join in.

“That was soo~ cooo~l,” Steven hollers. “That was _so_ in the Drama Zone! And now you’re a Crystal Gem!”

Connie blushes and brushes her hair behind one ear. “I just made it up as I went along, you know? Comic books and stuff.”

“It was very fitting,” Opal says and gives her three thumbs-up.

“It was also a lot more awesome than when I became a Crystal Gem,” Steven says.

“You were nine years old, Steven,” Garnet says. “And while this is a momentous occasion, we can’t celebrate just yet.”

“Why not?” Steven asks.

“Because there are still things to do, and all members of the Crystal Gems are present, so we need to discuss strategy,” Garnet says.

“Have I mentioned how much I love when you take charge like that?” Opal purrs.

Garnet blushes and hesitates for a fraction of a second. “Now, it stands to reason that those Gem Mutants you two fought at what I am assuming to be the Crossroads General Hospital? —” she looks to Connie for confirmation; Connie nods, “— did not wander here all the way from Kindergarten in Buckeye.”

“The question is if they are intelligent enough to use Warp Pads,” Opal adds. “There’s two other pads in Delmarva.”

Garnet holds up a finger, as if to say something. Instead she stays quiet. The silence verges on becoming really and truly awkward when she finally speaks up: “… They most likely can’t,” Garnet says. “Now, if they are here but can’t warp, someone brought them here.”

Opal’s eyes narrows. “ _Peridot,_ ” she hisses.

“Only conclusion that makes sense. Opal, if you or Pearl would check the warp pad against her escape pod.”

Opal curls up into fetal position and lifts herself off the floor on all four hands, then in the most curious form of locomotion Steven and Connie have ever seen, she scampers off toward the temple door.

She opens it to some room Steven has never seen before, and crawls inside.

“Well, that was _odd_ —” Connie begins but is interrupted by the temple door opening again and Opal coming back out, still moving like some over sized four-legged spider.

“No warp activity on account of Peridot,” Opal says.

Garnet nods. “Opal, Connie, make Connie a new cloning device that allows for Clonnies to poof. Steven, you’re coming with me to start looking for Peridot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was 100 000 words, people!
> 
> Thank you for your moral support.
> 
> If you have any friends who likes Steven Universe, and are suffering under the Hiatus, send them this way!


	80. What the Basement Hides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to our second-ish _Oyster Bomb!_
> 
> One chapter every day for a good number of days.

A one-legged fusion and a human girl step through an extradimensional door into an underground passage…

Such would be the opener for a really strange and possibly quite funny joke, but alas the strange situation is quite real.

“So, where are we going?” Connie asks.

The corridor is lit by a narrow band of softly glowing blue and yellow crystals in the ceiling. The walls are gray stone.

“I need a few components and some raw materials, so we’re going…” Opal looks down one way of the corridor, then the other. “That way,” she says and points in one direction.

Connie squints, but can’t make out anything other than more tunnel. “How far?”

“A ways. Want a lift?”

* * *

The corridor is barely tall enough for Opal to stand straight, and not nearly wide enough for the enormous fusion to stretch out her arms horizontally. Neither the tightness of the space, nor the fact that she is missing a leg serves as any deterrent to Opal.

Connie hangs on for dear life — arms around Opal’s neck, and well supported by one of the strong arms cradling her, but still — as Opal traverses the tunnel on one leg and three arms, at speeds more appropriate for motor vehicles than anything else.

“Woo~w,” Connie screams over the noise of the wind whooshing past.

“Yeah,” Opal yells. “We’re in a hurry.”

After what seems like an adrenaline-fueled eternity, Opal starts slowing down, only to turn a ninety degree corner at a positively placid pace, and then speeding up again.

To Connie, none of it is frightening — rocketing down stony corridors at breakneck speeds in the arms of Opal, she feels almost safer than she does when she’s riding with her parents.

In her ears, the violins sync with the rhythm of Opal’s footfalls and her hands striking the walls, creating an exhilarating tune.

* * *

They reach a chamber full of enormous tanks and tubs, some level with the floor, some towering up to the ceiling. Numerous consoles and apertures stand around next to the tubs, with strange robotic arms hanging limply from cranes above.

The space is lit by hovering, incandescent spheres, and the ceiling is a mess of pipes — some of which are coated in layers of crystals, forming stalagmites, a rare few of which have matching stalactites on the floor.

Parts of the floor are covered in something looking like frost, despite the sweltering temperature. It smells like chemicals and dust.

“What is this place?” Connie asks.

“Cold Gemforge,” Opal answers, setting Connie down. “The smaller one connected to the temple. The other one is shut down — didn’t have the manpower to keep it online.”

“Gemforge?” Connie asks.

Opal points to one of the tubs. “Used to grow crystal-based devices and tools.”

Connie tiptoes over to the tub and looks inside — something the approximate shape and size of a warp pad lies under the surface of a yellow-green solution.

“And a ‘Cold’ Gemforge?”

“Hot ones use furnaces and molten crystal. Cold ones use solutions.”

Connie turns to look at Opal. The four-armed woman is busy at a workbench, handling a variety of vials, phials, bottles and jugs, carefully mixing something in a small metal drum.

Connie inches closer, boggling at the dexterity of all four arms working in concert. “… And what’s that?” she asks.

“A fluid medium — for cooling, rinsing… And suspending,” Opal says and jams a metal cap on the drum. She raises it to Pearl’s gem, and it dissolves into light. “Next, raw materials.”

* * *

Another trip through the dark stone corridors, leads them into a room so large, Connie for a moment believes they are outside. The starry sky overhead helps the illusion.

It’s a hemisphere, and only the faint lines on the walls they are quickly retreating from betray the hexagons delimiting the screens that make up the walls.

Out of cramped spaces, Opal changes gait and runs awkwardly for almost a minute through the utterly enormous subterranean dome. Suddenly she straightens and pulls a full-sized windshield from Pearl’s gem.

Connie manages to look down and sees Opal’s lower leg reformed, before the Gem accelerates to even greater speeds. Without the windshield, Connie would scarcely be able to breathe.

From there, Opal rushes into a spacious corridor made of red rock with tiled floors.

“Why don’t we use the temple door?” Connie yells over the roar of the gale of wind rushing past them.

“This is quicker!” Opal yells back.

The corridor ends abruptly into an enormous open space, far above the floor below. Connie hollers — mostly excitement — as Opal runs partway up one wall, gathering lateral momentum, then down to the floor and up the other wall.

Just before the opening, she kicks off sharply, jostling Connie to the edge of comfortable acceleration and sending them sailing into the cylindrical room.

The corridor already opened into the space at an angle, and now they are moving almost tangentially to the walls. The reason for Opal’s maneuver is apparent from the wall — it is a slanted spiral, and she manages six steps along it before opting to just slide along it.

Down and down, around and around. The room turns out not to be a cylinder at all, but in fact an inverted cone, and they keep up the speed with help from the narrowing radius. The sliding trip takes almost a minute.

“What is this place?” Connie calls out over the noticeably lesser wind noise.

“Vortex tube. Part of the Temple’s ventilation infrastructure,” Opal replies.

“This place is huge!” Connie yells.

* * *

They finally arrive at the bottom, and Opal ducks into one of several corridors leading out in a radial manner from the bottom of the vortex tube chamber.

She puts the windshield away in Pearl’s gem, and sits Connie on her shoulder.

“So where are we going now?”

“To the storage chambers where we put the more active parts of the Handship,” Opals says. “We need basis materials, and the wreckage has higher quality stuff than what we have lying around.”

“What did you do with the rest of it? That thing was massive.”

“Dumped it in the ocean.”

“Oh.”

* * *

The actual storage is much less impressive than the other rooms Connie has seen today.

It’s another gray stone corridor, lit by softly glowing spheres, and with metal doors on either side. The rooms are utterly featureless, not very large, and from the few Opal looks into, Connie surmises they are all filled with various bits of half-broken Gemtech. It’s all green, too.

Opal finally finds what she is looking for — a section of translucent pipe, housing smaller pipes and wires. Not entirely rigid either. It’s ten feet long and a foot and a half thick.

“What’s that?”

“Power distribution cable,” Opal says and pats it. “Quality goods.”

That one doesn’t go in Pearl’s gem. Connie doesn’t ask why.

* * *

This time they actually take the Temple door back (after traveling perhaps a mile down more eldritch corridors at a brisk trot.) They emerge into the beach house, Connie still sitting on Opal’s shoulder.

Opal steps onto the warp pad.

“Where are we—” Connie manages before Opal activates the pad, and they whirl through the warp stream for barely half a second, then emerge onto the palm of the Temple statue. “— Oh.”

“Beats navigating this thing” — Opal hefts the cable — “through Steven’s room. Not to mention getting myself through the front door…”

Opal leaps onto the statue arm and slides down, jumps, and lands, somehow keeping Connie from experiencing the shocks and impacts.

“What’s next?”

“A swim. We need a part of the Handship hull.”

“I’ll sit this one out,” Connie says.

* * *

Opal wades out into the surf, leaving Connie on the shore. The giant woman eventually makes a small jump and dives under.

 _Pearl and Amethyst sure go great together,_ she thinks. _What a ride that was._

Connie sits down and digs her fingers into the sand.

_I’m a Crystal Gem, going on a Gem adventure. Right now._

She lies back in the sand. _This is my life now… I love hanging out here._

* * *

Opal emerges from the waves a couple of minutes later. Connie has returned to the beach house for a glass of water in the meantime.

Opal strides onto shore, carrying a small boulder of greenish metal on one shoulder.

She picks up the cable lying in the sand. Together they walk up the ramp, and at the top, Opal kicks off with enough force to cause a light tremor and sails through the air up to the temple hand in a single bound, then warps inside.

Connie gawks for moment, then opts for the stairs and the front door.

“We’re ready to begin construction,” Opal says. Pearl’s gem glows in her forehead, and the temple door opens behind her, revealing the otherworldly water wonderland that is Pearl’s room.

Once again Opal picks Connie up, and proceeds to walk across the water surface. She leaps up to the largest liquid platform, lands, and stomps her foot.

The flowing waters go glassy clear, and Opal lets Connie down.

“What is this place?” Connie asks.

“Pearl’s room. It’s the prototyping floor.”

From the glassy floor, a number of black cuboids rise, forming an intricate arrangement — it takes Connie a moment to recognize them as work tables.

Next, hundreds of strange tools rise out of the water, held by invisible forces. Some are easily recognizable: hammers, knives, spikes, tweezers — some are more esoteric: die grinders, drills, torches…

At least that’s what Connie thinks they are. She’s not particularly knowledgeable about tools, and at least half of what’s on display has never even been conceived of by a human being. Noticeably — there’s an entire section dedicated to what appears to be chisels. And… Axes.

Opal starts selecting tools — mostly of the kind Connie doesn’t recognize. And quite a few chisels. Then she sits down cross legged in front of a worktable and starts starts pulling the cable apart layer by layer.

Halfway through the process of extracting sub-cables, Opal stops. “Why am I even—” she says, and discards the strange cutting tool, which floats back to the spot she plucked it from.

As a replacement, she shapeshifts a hand into something similar, and yet more actuated. With renewed vigor, she tears into the material. “Oh, this is _much_ easier.”

* * *

Opal continues working, and Connie quietly looks on. She takes a seat on one of the unoccupied work tables. Upon closer inspection it looks like black glass, completely without imperfection.

“So…” Connie says.

Opal looks up, almost startled. “Oh— Oh, I’m so sorry, Connie. I got so absorbed in my work—” she gestures with arms ending in strange tools rather than hands.

“No, no, it’s OK,” Connie says.

“We can chat, if you like,” Opal says. “I’m not so engulfed in this that I can’t talk.”

“What are you doing right now?” Connie asks.

“Extracting…” Opal says and cuts a few membranous parts of a sub-cable, then with an incredibly delicate pair of tweezers pulls out something looking like spiderweb. “… This bit. I should probably get around to separating all of them, but that’s a project for a later date.”

She tosses the remainder of the cable aside onto another table.

Then she taps the worktable, and it forms a trough. She fills it with the solution and lowers the webbing into the fluid.

“Now for the casing…” Opal says and picks up what looks like an angle grinder. It turns out to be one too, when the cutting head starts spinning, and she takes it to the metal chunk. A glassy tendril of water rises from the floor and gushes up to lather and cool the blade.

The noise is deafening, and Connie jams her fingers in her ears. Opal notices and quickly stops. “Whoops,” she says, and conjures a pair of earmuffs for Connie. “Better take care of your hearing — this is gonna take a little while.”


	81. Prototyping Floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's tired of science fusion? I sure as hell am not!

Opal cuts into the chunk of hull with agonizing slowness. Sparks fly and the racket resonates through the entire cavern system of Amethyst’s room.

It takes almost two minutes to cut off a cubical chunk of more manageable size.

“Now comes the fun part,” Opal says. “I’m thinking we should make it a bracelet.”

“That sounds good,” Connie says.

Opal conjures a duplicator wand from Pearl’s gem, and twirls it.

“What’s that for?” Connie asks.

“Parts I don’t want to make from scratch. Scanner, materializer, energy storage, power conduit. Basically the whole thing. I’m just adding more functions.”

“Like poofing?” Connie asks.

Opal nods. “Like poofing. Any wishes?”

Connie scratches her chin. “Uh, make it kind of stylish? I’d like to be able to wear it as jewelery — never take it off, basically. Needs to be comfortable too.”

Opal chuckles. “Fashionable and sensible. Good idea.”

Connie spends a moment pondering, then snaps her fingers when she reaches the obvious realization. “Make it so only I can use it. We wouldn’t want any more Onion incidents.”

Opal nods gravely, then it is her turn to scratch her chin. “Biometrics are tricky. Might I suggest a small subdermally implanted identification key in your wrists?”

Connie looks skeptically at her wrists. “Like an RFID chip? Sure, I guess— If my mother agrees… Or, actually no.” She looks up. “So long as it is safe, sure. Implants.”

Opal nods and smiles. “Don’t worry— I’ve got steady hands and a working knowledge of human anatomy.”

“Another thing,” Connie adds. “Gosh— It’s like I have a laundry list of issues here.”

“You’ve used the duplicator a lot, only sensible you would know it’s weaknesses,” Opal says.

“First,” Connie says, “it’s going to become a problem that I get tired during the fight, but have to take new snapshots to keep the Clonnies up to date.”

“Tricky,” Opal says.

“And activating it is bothersome,” Connie continues. “It is difficult to maintain focus enough to… _Think_ the right kind of thought — and I don’t suppose that kind of thought-detection is easy either…”

Opal claps her hands. “Oh! Lovely, you should say that; that will save us a component — I can replace it with some actuators to read your finger position and wrist movements instead, which would be easier to turn into a trained reflex and— I’m rambling — Yes. Good. Anything else?”

“What about some options?” Connie says. “It would be neat if I didn’t have to carry my sabre when taking the snapshot.”

Opal nods. “That’s far from a bad idea. So, weapons, perhaps clothing too?”

Connie nods. “What I’m wearing currently, something protective, and my training uniform.”

“And for weapons, might I suggest a buckler too?”

“Yeah…” Connie says. “Maybe a baton — non-lethal option, and something ranged too.”

“A low-caliber revolver,” Opal concludes. “Useless as a direct weapon against almost all Gems, and most monsters to boot, but it can’t hurt, I suppose.”

“I did _not_ say I wanted a gun,” Connie says, humbled by the suggestion. “But… Yeah, sign me up!”

Opal nods. “In lieu of your idea of optional things — maybe you want the poofing to be optional too?”

“Why would I want that?” Connie asks.

“For deception and tricks. It’s a lot more convincing to fake a heroic sacrifice if you leave behind a body.”

Connie nods and shivers. The logic is sound, but the implications are unnerving.

“Hold out your arm.”

Connie obeys, and Opal projects a translucent pipe around her wrist. It changes shape a little, narrowing its band on one side, then tightens around her wrist. Then it shifts and changes shape, and even vibrates.

“Move your hand a little. Clench your fist,” Opal says. Connie obeys, and the hologram bracelet further adjusts.

The hologram connection disappears, and Connie moves her wrist, now sporting a holographic bracelet.

“Uncomfortable?” Opal asks.

Connie tries twisting it around her wrist. It’s snug and doesn’t move much. “Not really.”

“Can you get that off on your own?” Opal asks.

With a bit of effort, Connie manages to contort her hand enough to slip it over her knuckles.

“Good.”

* * *

Opal starts milling the block of metal with a less noisy tool. A similar stream of water comes up to cool and lubricate, though at a lower volume.

“What else could we put in it…” Connie wonders and kicks her heels against the table.

“Don’t worry, this will not be the end product,” Opal says. “This will be the first of many.”

Opal works away, carving out the delicate, broad band that is going to become the wristband. Connie thinks.

Opal mutters things to herself — “might need more storage after all…” and “don’t need one of those either if we do it like so…”

Connie finally gathers the courage to start a conversation about something other than the matter at hand. “Are you in love with Garnet?”

Opal looks up, blushes, then giggles. Her deep falsetto is so unlike Pearl’s great vocal range, or Amethyst’s hoarseness. “I guess I am a little. But Garnet is— you know…” Opal stalls, as if searching for the word.

“Once Jamie the mailman wrote her a love letter and she said such things wouldn’t work because ‘three is a crowd.’ Is that what you mean?”

Opal nods. “Yeah. I guess I’m hoping that four can be a party.” She sighs wistfully.

“Well, you’re a fusion,” Connie says. “Why can’t Garnet come to have romantic feelings for someone too?”

“Good question, my pupil,” Opal says and goes back to working.

* * *

As fascinating as the creation of Gemtech may be, there are limits to how interesting it is to just watch it being made.

“Another question:” Connie says.

Opal doesn’t look up. “Hmm?”

“What are Pearl and Amethyst’s feelings for one another?”

Opal looks up, and stares into the distance for a little, either in thought or in bafflement. “All over the place,” she says.

Connie smiles slyly. “Are some of those feelings… Of the romantic kind?”

Opal giggles. “I have to keep some of their secrets. Any other probing personal questions?”

Connie looks away. If there is one, it’s the heavy one. “Thanks for helping me with this,” she says. “It means a lot to me.”

“It’s my genuine pleasure, Connie,” Opal says. “I’m having fun.”

Connie nods, even though Opal isn’t looking. “Steven is… Powerful. I mean, I’m good with a sword, but he— he wrestled with a Gem Mutant. Beat on it with a blunt weapon until it poofed.”

“He’s growing so fast,” Opal adds.

Connie takes a deep breath. “I’m not, though.”

That makes Opal look up at her.

Connie continues: “I’m just a human. All the magic I have is from —” she taps the circlet on her head. “Yesterday someone took my bag. I had the duplicator wand in it, and I got it back, but still.

“I’m the weakest Crystal Gem,” she says and slumps.

Opal nods. “Connie Maheswaran, you might not have raw power, but you are strong in the _real_ way.

“You beat Pearl with wits and creativity, and you defeated a Gem Mutant without suffering a single scratch upon your person.”

Connie shrugs.

Opal folds two of her arms. “Young lady, you will be proud of your accomplishments or so help me, I will make this thing make all the clones naked.”

That gets a giggle from Connie.

Opal returns to the process of creating the casing for the wristband.

“How do they deal with it?” Connie asks her.

Opal tilts her head, acknowledging the question, but not taking her eyes of the project.

“Being weak,” Connie adds. “Pearl and Amethyst are strictly second to Garnet, I mean.”

Opal stays quiet in thought for long enough before answering that Connie starts to fear she has offended the fusion. “We don’t,” Opal finally says. “We’re miserable half the time. Both of us have… _Used_ Garnet. Fused with her, or wanted to, for less than noble reasons, and we hate ourselves individually for it.”

Connie shifts in her seat. “… Sorry for bringing it up.”

“Don’t be. It’s our own fault, and we’ll just have to live with it.”

Opal puts down the die grinder and rubs her eyes. Connie hasn’t noticed before now, but all the swarf is swept off the table by the water, moving with purpose even after it has cooled the grinding tools.

“But…” Connie says. “You don’t have to do it alone. Garnet doesn’t hate you, and Steven is always ready to cheer people up, and I’m talking with you right now… And you have each other.

“Opal, Crystal Gems shouldn’t have to deal with all their mistakes alone. I don’t think so, at least.”

Opal chuckles and cracks a sad smile. “That’s very kind of you, Connie.”

“Nah, Steven is the nicer one,” she says.

* * *

The wand is lowered into the solution and Opal pokes it with a strange tool which makes it — there’s really no better way of putting it — dissolve.

The baubles on the end of its prongs fall off, and the stalks slide apart. The shells around the baubles dissolve too, and the crystals inside come to float freely in the fluid.

“I’ll need to go get a storage core. Your great ideas requires more than what I brought,” Opal says.

Connie looks up from the bath of blue liquid. “How long will that take?”

“Ninety seconds.”

Connie nods. “I promise I won’t touch anything.”

Opal gets up and walks to the edge of the platform. She turns, smiles and waves at Connie, then steps backwards off the edge and plummets into the depths of the temple.

* * *

Connie spends the time lying on her back and staring at the crystal studded ceiling. If she squints, it too looks like the stars of the night sky. Strange how so many things in these caves are so much like the night sky.

 _It reminds them of space, perhaps,_ Connie wonders.

Opal returns with the _woosh_ of a gentle breeze, carrying several strange components in her hands. Her landing on the watery platform makes nary a sound.

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Opal mutters and spreads the items on a different table. Connie makes her way over to take a closer look — various bits of what looks to be metal and plastic, and a long cylindrical rod of strangely iridescent crystal, pinkish, almost like a snowflake in the ends.

The fusion leans over and with her enormous reach plucks a chisel out of the swarm.

She puts it down a nails breadth from the end of the rod, and gives the butt of the tool a hard strike with the palm of a hand. A wafer-thin slice of crystal neatly pops off the end, and Opal catches it in mid air with a third hand. It’s no larger than a big coin.

Opal rolls the small crystal disk across her fingers. She picks up the bracelet casing and sizes them up against each other.

“What’s this for?” Connie asks.

Opal grumbles something unintelligible, then looks at Connie. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fit all the weapons and outfits you want in the bracelet.”

Connie cocks her head. “Why not?”

“Because this” — Opal holds up the transparently thin crystal disk — “can store one Clonnie… _Imprint_ … Say, poofing, training uniform, sensible shoes, sabre, buckler. To make all the combinations we’ll need… Over a hundred of these.”

Connie looks from the disk to Opal and then back. “What.”

“Poofing and not-poofing is two, four different outfits, times at least four different weapons — once for each hand —” Opal rambles.

Connie cuts her off. “Hold up. I Don’t know anything about Gem technology, but I’ve created Clonnies and duplicated sabres separately on at least two occasions. Why don’t you make it so it first makes the clone, then the clothes, then the weapons?”

Opal’s eyes go wide as she stares at Connie.

Connie shrinks a little under the rather intense stare. “I mean, best if the clothes come on kind of quickly, you know?”

Opal looks away into the distance.

“Did… Did I say something wrong?” Connie meekly asks.

“That’s absolutely brilliant,” Opal says quietly. “Why did _I_ not think of that?!”

* * *

With a fierce passion bordering on the maniacal, Opal begins putting the bracelet together in earnest. She moves with lighting speed and surgical precision, drilling holes in the casing, connecting Gemtech components with the spiderweb mesh submerged in the blue solution, fashioning working actuators out of spare bits of metal and plastic.

It is intense, almost frightening. Connie gets the hunch to put on the earmuffs again ten seconds before Opal picks up some kind of wand that creates a shrill screaming noise for about five seconds.

Just when Connie thinks the whole thing is coming together, Opal starts disassembling it again, manifesting holograms and picking several somethings resembling laser pointers.

“Is this gonna take a while?” Connie asks.

“Yep,” Opal says. “Ten minutes or so.”

Connie trods to the edge of the watery platform. “Can I go back to Steven’s room and wait?”

Opal looks up, then gets up. “Of course, let me help you down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in tomorrow for another chapter :D


	82. Testing One–Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to day three of Oysterbomb!

Opal barely lets Connie through the temple door before jumping back up to the prototyping floor.

The door closes behind her, and she is alone in the beach house.

_Wow._

It is… Exhausting… Just to be in Opal’s company.

Connie trudges into the kitchen for a glass of water and pulls out her phone.

> 
>         
>     Mother, Opal is going to
>     implant some RFID chips in
>     my wrists.
>     
>       

Connie looks at the text, and lets her thumb hover over the ‘send’ button. After a moments deliberation she deletes it, rather than send it and risk an angry phone call.

Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Instead, she texts Steven:

> 
>         
>                   Connie:
>       Opal is making me a
>          new and improved
>               duplicator.
>     
>                   Connie:
>       And she took me for
>          a roller coaster
>            ride of a trip
>       through the temple.
>     
>       

Connie sips her water and looks out the window, but no reply comes.

She checks the time. _Only three minutes?_ She looks at the temple door, just slightly hoping that Opal will emerge. _What has become of me — I used to be good at waiting for things._

Defeated by her own impatience, Connie goes up to Steven’s bedroom and turns on the TV.

* * *

Ten minutes have passed, almost by the clock, when the temple door opens and Opal pokes her head out. “I need you for a minute here, Connie.”

Connie jumps up, entirely neglecting to turn off the nature program she found worth watching. She jumps down from the loft, landing in a roll, and runs directly for the temple door, going so far as to cross over the warp pad rather than going around it.

Opal wastes no time and picks her up as soon as she passes the threshold, and jumps off the ledge.

Connie looks up as they sail past the prototyping floor — now once again reduced to just an impossible fountain of water flowing in mid-air. “Aren’t we—” Connie begins.

Opal holds up the finished bracelet briefly for Connie to see, before her feet make contact with the water of a different and much smaller platform.

It too turns glassy, and six gray obelisks start to rise from under the surface, near the edge. On their surface are complicated geometric patterns of inlaid lines of pink, softly glowing crystal. They rise to nearly twenty feet tall before they are joined by a central hexagonal podium in much the same design — wide enough to be a stage for a mid-sized rock band.

Lastly, a familiar hand-shaped console joins the ensemble.

“Before you ask, this is where we are going to make sure this —” Opal twirls the bracelet “— actually works.”

Connie looks at the device — metallic green with a white pearl-like stone.

To Connie’s instinctive dismay, Opal tosses it into the air. It sails over the central podium where an unseen force intercepts it.

From Pearl’s Gem Opal draws two rather imposing syringes with a little bit of clear fluid in them, cotton swabs, and a bottle of iodine. “Wrists,” she says.

Connie — being no stranger to needles, but still not finding them the most enjoyable thing in the world — reluctantly holds out her arms for Opal. Gently and with practiced ease, Opal disinfects the skin. Then her grip grows firm and she deftly jabs Connie in both arms at once, injecting.

The pain is sudden and brief. Connie gives a small yelp.

“There. Nicely deposited under the skin,” Opal says. “Small bits of metal that the bracelet can detect.”

A trickle of blood seeps from each puncture wound. Connie winces at the pain. “That kinda hurt.”

“Sorry,” Opal says. “Better to get it over with quickly. Here—” she conjures a small vial. “Healing water.”

Connie gratefully takes the vial, uncorks it and pours a bit on each wound. The pain ceases shortly after, and the bleeding stops. She licks the remaining blood off, revealing unbroken skin. “Thanks.”

“I’ve—” Opal begins. “Well, Pearl has been carrying it around since Amethyst almost… Died”

“I heard about that,” Connie says and scratches at the injection sites. The healing water may have taken care of the tissue damage, but not the sensation of having a piece of metal the size of a grain of rice embedded.

Opal turns to the central podium, places a hand on the controller, and gestures. Holographic screens — both her own light blue ones, and ones projected by the arrangement of stones in pink, fill the air.

Opal plucks the bracelet out of the air, connects a thin translucent wire to it, and hands it to Connie.

Connie inspects it first. It has a broad head, tapering shoulders and narrow shank opposite the head. The inside of the narrow side has what looks like small ball bearings.

The wire leads into the water below.

The head is sat with a pearly stone near the front edge — reminiscent of the bulbous ends of the duplicator wand’s antennae — and below that, a rhomboid window with an orange substance below it. The base material is an iridescent green — ranging from white to vivid neon to gunmetal.

“Put it on,” Opal says.

Connie puts it over one wrist. It looks snazzy. Opal glances at a screen, nods, brushes it aside, gestures at another. “Now put it on the other…”

Connie obeys. “What’s this good for?”

Opal looks from one screen to the other, pressing a few holographic buttons. “Checking the implants. And through those, that it knows your right from your left, so the actuators can respond properly.” She pulls up a screen between her and Connie, and next to it a holographic model of a hand. “Move your hand and fingers please.”

Connie clenches and unclenches her hand a few times, and the holographic hand moves in concert. She makes a victory-sign, the OK-sign, then the bull horns.

Opal smiles and makes the bull horns too.

Connie looks at her palm. She can feel some smooth, rounded shapes press gently against her wrist from the inside of the band. “So, does it read my whole hand?”

Opal looks up. “No. This —” she gestures to the hand “— is just a data visualization.” She pulls up a different hologram panel. “Activation gestures should be otherwise useless. Can you extend your ring and little fingers on their own?”

Connie does as requested. “Can’t everyone?”

“Manual freedom of movement varies a lot in humans.”

* * *

They decide on gestures for the four functions — creating Clonnies, deleting Clonnies, updating mental image, and updating physical image. On Connie’s insistence they use the sign language I-L-Y-sign for the creation gesture.

To Connie’s disappointment, Opal has never heard of Spider-Man.

“So, how do I select equipment?” Connie asks.

Opal gestures on her own wrist for Connie to inspect the side of the bottom side of the bracelet head, opposite the stone. There sit three dials, all like the crown of a wrist watch, but larger, next to a flushed sliding switch.

Connie gives the middle one a pull, and it slides out a little.

“The switch determines poofability, middle crown for outfit, left for left hand weapon, right for right hand weapon,” Opal explains. “Currently there’s room for four outfits and six weapons.”

Connie turns the middle crown — it has five settings it snaps to. She inspects the other ones and finds seven snap-points on each.

“How do I tell what it’s set to right now?” Connie asks.

“Well, the switch is easy: the non-poofing variant completely ignores the dials, so when the switch is in the position furthest from the dials, that means non-poofing. As for the dials—” Opal says and hesitates. “ _Tarnation,_ did I forget that? Small matter, I’ll engrave it later. Besides, there’s nothing in it currently — that’s what we’re up here for!”

* * *

Connie set the switch to ‘poofing’ and wiggles her wrist, taking the first physical scan and christening the device. Hundreds of hologram panels light up, and a Clonnie springs into being, standing atop the central dais, frozen in time.

“I’ve already calibrated it to ignore the innards of the circlet, and other magic that might give unpredictable results…” Opal says and studies some readings. “Filter working as intended. Now to load up the big guns…”

Opal beckons and Connie holds out the bracelet. With alacrity and precision Opal connects over forty similar translucent wires to various points on the bracelet chassis.

Another few hundred holographic screens appear, and Opal’s own blue one are now heavily outnumbered by the pink. Connie boggles at the sheer amount of information on display and partially tunes out Opal’s mutterings.

“… Since we want one of the options to be non-poofing, I’ve foregone consolidating the slice operations for object detection and central nervous system detection, which also means we can start with the object detector output to develop the necessary slicing in the Composer…”

The Clonnie goes through numerous starts and fits — moving about on fast-forward, as well being turned into various smears of holographic substance and back.

“… Probably ought to start finding the necessary anatomical details from Rose’s Library. Not as accurate from up here either…”

As if by the flick of a switch, Clonnie’s flesh disappears, leaving behind parts of the central nervous system — brain and spine. The flesh returns, then disappears again, taking less of the nervous system with it. The process repeats numerous times.

“… Of course there need to be some automatic variation in the posing to account for the different weapons and outfits; could you take another physical scan for me, Connie? I need another reference….”

Connie sits down, back resting against one of the pillars. Opals deep sonorous voice and the flickering of holograms take on an almost hypnotic character.

* * *

“… Connie?”

“What?” Connie shakes from her stupor.

“You fell asleep,” Opal says.

“Oh,” Connie says and pushes herself up. Her neck hurts a little from resting her head against the hard stone. “How long?”

“Almost thirty minutes. What weapons and outfits did you want?”

“Right, um…” Connie says and thinks back. “Sabre, baton, knife, buckler… And a gun?”

“We should just go look in the armory for some of those,” Opal says thoughtfully.

“ _Rose’s_ armory?” Connie asks.

Opal laughs. “No, no. It’s a pile Amethyst has. She calls it the ‘armory’ mostly for laughs.”

* * *

For once, Opal doesn’t just pick Connie up and jump down into the caverns that is Amethyst’s room — even though they lie directly below Pearl’s room.

The ‘Armory’ would make anyone schooled in basic firearms safety wince. Spears, swords, knives, rifles, pistols, spare ammunition, live explosives… All jumbled together.

“Hm… This pile is pretty unsafe actually. Better stand back, Connie.”

Connie doesn’t just stand back. She takes cover behind an outcropping of rock, and doesn’t even dare look. Not because the circlet informs her of any danger, but because her father has drilled gun-safety into her.

The sounds of Opal’s rummaging makes it easy to imagine the sound of a misfire any second.

“This should do nicely,” Connie hears Opal say. A moment later Opal peeks around Connie’s chosen hiding place.

* * *

From there, they venture to the other end of Amethyst’s room, to the ‘Wardrobe’ pile.

(Both a literal pile of wardrobes, but also the wardrobes contain clothes, making it function as a wardrobe. Connie quietly appreciates the wordplay.)

Somehow, Opal manages to scrounge up a rugged work coat, a pair of overalls reinforced in the knees, a hard-hat, gloves, and steel-toed boots, all in Connie’s size.

* * *

Opal scans the assortment of weapons and the two outfits into the bracelet.

“I thought it couldn’t scan things anymore?” Connie asks.

“Not without direct access,” Opal replies and jiggles one of the many translucent wires.

Connie looks at the by now truly massive jumble of wires attached to the bracelet. The ends seemingly adhere to the metal of the casing. “How do those things attach?” she asks.

“Capillaries in the metal,” Opal says. “Very fine holes, and very fine needles on the wires.”

* * *

It all comes together more or less seamlessly in the end.

“Be advised, the poofing and non-poofing variants are tracked separately. You will have to take a physical imprint in each mode for it to work,” Opal explains.

Connie double checks that the switch is set to non-poofing. She hesitates, remembering once again the horrible scene at the hospital.

“You can take your time,” Opal says.

Connie shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “No, I’m OK.”

She recites the mantra mentally, closes her eyes, stands at ease, then rolls her wrist to take the imprint. Then she breathes out, opens her eyes and… Let’s be honest, pretends for a moment that she has a web-shooter.

The characteristic faint glow reaches out a handful of feet and manifests a Clonnie in a brief flicker. Dark hair, fair brown skin, yellow dress, red boots — exactly like Connie herself.

Slowly she opens her eyes and looks around. “Whoa.”

Clonnie stands there, looking around for a bit, before stiffening and taking off her circlet. “This circlet one doesn’t work,” she says, spinning it.

“… Which is as intended,” Opal remarks, monitoring some readouts. “Poofing one now, please.”

Connie fiddles with the switch (Opal has set the dials for her to casual outfit and no weapons,) takes another full snapshot, then shoots another clone. Despite being very different in internal structure (as Opal has assured her the poofing clones are) she is virtually identical to the atom-for-atom copy standing next to her.

She opens her eyes and looks around.

“How do you feel?” Opal asks, while Connie and the first Clonnie looks on.

The new Clonnie looks down herself and testingly rolls her shoulders and hips. “Weird, but pretty good. We should probably scan me to be sure, though. Huh, even talking feels funny.”

“Yes,” Opal concurs absently. “Do a neural update and make another one.”

Connie wiggles her wrist and shoots a third Clonnie. This one stands still for half a second before falling into convulsions.

“Interesting,” Opal says, looking from a hologram screen to the convulsing Clonnie, then to the frozen Clonnie on the dais. Connie and the two healthy Clonnies look on in horror.

Connie hurriedly unmakes the convulsing clone, and then the two other Clonnies too.

“Ah, small miscalculation on my part,” Opal says. “It will be but a minute.”

Connie uses the entire time it takes Opal to correct whatever flaw it was, to get over the sight of herself having a Grand Mal seizure. _I’m not sure I can take much more of this,_ she thinks.

“Again, now,” Opal finally says.

Connie obliges, taking a neural imprint and manifesting another Clonnie. She waits with bated breath for the same reaction, but nothing happens.

“It works,” Clonnie says. “Cool. Feels weird though.”

Opal nods. “One last thing to test—”

Connie stifles a scream as Opal hammers a finger into Clonnie’s chest, like an arrow through flesh. For a fraction of a second, Clonnie begins to process what has happened, before dematerializing in a cloud of mist.

“Poofing works as intended,” Opal notes. “I’ll call this a _resounding_ success.”

Connie stares in disbelief, processing what just happened. “Opal?” She asks in an emotionless monotone.

“Yes?”

Connie looks at the Gem. She is perusing some holographic screens.

“Opal, look at me,” Connie says.

Opal turns to her, with idle curiosity.

Connie glares back. “Don’t _ever_ do that again.”

“Oh.” Opal’s expression shifts to horror. She covers her mouth with three hands. “Stars above, Connie, I am so sorry— I didn’t think to…”

Connie looks away and takes a deep breath. “It’s… OK,” she says. “No harm done this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Tune in tomorrow for another chapter!


	83. Loving Yourself is No Prerequisite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go.

Connie takes a minute to gather her wits after just witnessing Opal casually displaying the ability to kill with her bare hands. She stares out at the caverns once again, at the imitation of stars, leaning on one of the pillars.

She takes a deep breath and turns back, ready to continue the tests, but instead sees Opal curled up next to a pillar, face hidden in her hands.

“Opal?” Connie asks and trots over to the giant woman.

“I’m bad, aren’t I?” she mutters. “I shouldn’t be given responsibility like this. Pearl and Amethyst do it so well apart, but as soon as I am me, I…”

Connie puts a hand on Opals shoulder. “Opal… It’s OK. I’m a little flaky today, it’s my fault, it’s OK.”

“No it’s not. I’m ditzy and forgetful and over-excited. More reckless than Sugilite and more self-absorbed than Sardonyx — maybe we just shouldn’t fuse anymore. Let Garnet be the fusion master and just not…”

Opal shudders and sobs.

“Opal, look at me,” Connie says.

Opal obliges, taking her hands off her face. Tears are smeared across her cheeks.

“I think you need a hug,” Connie says.

Opal nods with quivering lip, and picks Connie up, before treating the girl to the unparalleled comprehensiveness of a four-armed embrace.

Connie pats Opal on the back of her shoulder — a pat on the back, save for the detail that Connie can’t reach. “Maybe you should unfuse? It sounds like you’re in a negative spiral.”

Opal nods, and blooms with light. The sensation is eerie, as the illusory mass turns gelatinous — but at the same time filled with warmth and retaining the solidity of a body. The light slides gracefully apart into Amethyst and Pearl, still in Connie’s embrace.

* * *

Connie pulls back, breaking free of the hug, and looks from Pearl to Amethyst. “So, are you two alright?”

Pearl wipes her eyes with the heel of her hand. Amethyst mirrors the motion with a thumb. They have in unfusing ended up holding hands.

“Yes, Connie,” Pearl says. “We’re alright.”

Amethyst looks away and blushes. “Hey, um— P…” she says.

Pearl looks at her. “Yes?”

Amethyst intertwines her fingers with Pearl’s, and looks up at her. She makes to say something, but hesitates.

“Is something the matter, Amethyst?” Pearl says and blushes.

Instead of answering, Amethyst reaches up and caresses Pearl’s cheek, then leans in and kisses her. The kiss lingers, and Pearl closes her eyes. Her hand finds Amethyst’s neck.

Connie barely contains a ‘squee.’

Then one kiss turns into another. And another. Pearl’s hand slides down across Amethyst’s collarbone…

Connie looks away.

Amethyst pulls back. “Peaa~rl!” she exclaims and chuckles. “Not in front of Connie, eh?”

Pearl’s eyes go wide and she blushes deep and hard. “… Oh. Yeah, I let myself go a little there.”

“Soo~…” Connie says. “I take this to mean you two are… Officially a couple?”

“Maybe,” Amethysts says, and looks at Pearl.

“Maybe?” Pearl asks.

“I don’t think we should rush into it,” Amethyst says. “Garnet would have… _words_ with us if we did.”

They stand there gazing into each others eyes for a beat before Pearl breaks the silence.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “She would.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but haven’t you two known each other for the better part of five thousand years?” Connie asks.

“All the more reason to ease into it,” Pearl says and giggles.

Then they kiss again.

* * *

Amethyst sits on the central podium, content to look on while Pearl acts in her element — not quite as quickly as Opal could, but with more purpose and routine.

She pauses and rubs the bridge of her nose.

“You OK there, Pierogi?” Amethyst asks.

“Yeah, I’m just missing the simplicity of the my portable Composer,” Pearl says and sighs. “Why did we pick this one for the task again?”

“I dunno,” Amethyst says and giggles. “It’s big, and we were exited, and it’s cool!”

Connie stands with an assortment of Clonnies about her, finally feeling like some part of her, previously missing, is now restored.

“Now, you remarked that the poofing-variant feels weird. Would you care to describe that in more detail?” Pearl asks.

“Yeah, uh,” one of the poofing Clonnies say and looks at the two others. “Things feel… _less_. Also I think we’re a bit stronger?”

“So a reduction in sensory fidelity and a miscalibration of muscular strength. I’ll see what I can do,” Pearl says and calls up a holographic display.

The Clonnies look at one another. “Maybe don’t fix the strength issue?” one of them says.

“Yeah. This could be really useful,” another says. “Maybe even make us stronger?”

Pearl looks at them and then at Connie. Connie shrugs and nods.

“All right,” Pearl says. “Perhaps, when I fix the sensory fidelity, I could speed up reflexes too?”

“Ooh,” another of the Clonnies say. “That sounds great! What else can you do?”

“Well, in theory as long as we stay within certain energy constraints, and as long as we join it to the central nervous system duplication…” Pearl pauses for effect. “ _Anything._ ”

“Whoa,” a few of the Clonnies say.

Pearl chuckles. “We are on a deadline, though. Garnet may have a need for us later today.”

“A thing to take into consideration,” Connie says. “Maybe we shouldn’t put too many bells and whistles in the Clonnies?”

“Why?” a Clonnie asks. “Bells and whistles are _awesome!_ ”

“Because,” Connie says. “Since I don’t have super strength, you will have to learn how to manage it every time I create you.”

“Ah. Yes, that would be inconvenient,” a different Clonnie says.

“Shoot,” a third one says. “It would have been really cool.”

“Yeah,” Connie concurs. “Let’s do what you suggested, Pearl.”

“I could watch you argue with yourself all day, kid,” Amethyst says to them. “It’s mesmerizing.”

They all watch Pearl work in silence for a while.

“So, what’s it like?” Connie asks one of the first Clonnies.

“Tingly and numb. Like powdered cloves on your lips, but everywhere. And it feels like I am… Hollow?” she says and pokes at her belly. She takes a deep breath. “Breathing doesn’t feel right either.”

Pearl has been paying attention to the conversation, but wordlessly turns back to the work. The Clonnie on the central dais springs to life.

She orients herself fairly quickly and opens her mouth to speak. The voice comes sorta muffled from one of the obelisks. “ _This is new…_ ”

“Clonnie,” Pearl says, addressing her. “I’m going to tweak some of your parameters in order to fix the sensory issues. Are you ready?”

She nods.

“Wait, that is a real Clonnie?” Connie says.

“Yeah. Except, trapped inside the Composer,” Amethyst supplies. She gets up and walks across the stone stage, up to the Clonnie. She waves a hand through the otherwise solid-seeming Clonnie, much to her surprise.

“ _That was really weird,_ ” she says.

The next ten minutes pass with Amethyst, Connie and her small crowd of herself looking on while Pearl works in complete silence, save for asking for another Clonnie every once in a while.

* * *

Once a satisfiable level of not-feeling-weird is reported, (still pretty weird, but just a bit funny rather than enough to cause nausea,) Amethyst is the one to suggest they break for the day.

By the end of it, Pearl is looking right frazzled.

She dismisses the holograms and the obelisks and dais of the Composer, breathing a sigh of relief. As they sink below, she summons up another item:

It looks like a small warp pad, only rather than being squat, it is tall enough to be a work table. On the edge is a hand-shaped console, though only big enough for a human-sized palm. Next to it is a is a removable panel of the same blue crystal, and through it, the tips of connector wires can be faintly made out.

Unceremoniously, Pearl picks the hefty piece of equipment up, and rests it on one shoulder. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Connie exits the temple, carried aloft by two Clonnies. (With the regular wand it had taken four to carry her comfortably.)

Within ten seconds, the cell towers picks up on her phone coming back in range, and deliver her a text:

> 
>         
>     Steven:
>     Cool!
>     I'm pretending to be an
>     FBI agent with Garnet.
>     
>       

“It looks like Steven and Garnet are doing well,” Connie notes.

Amethyst jumps straight over the kitchen counter and goes for the fridge. “It’s the G-squad and Ste-man, how could they not? Do you want anything, Connie?”

“Just water, please,” Connie says.

Pearl gently sets the massive hunk of crystal down on the stone flooring — it’s sheer weight is one thing, but said weight concentrated through Pearl’s narrow feet could damage the wooden floor.

“So, what’s next?” one of the Clonnies ask.

“Now we wait for Garnet to contact us,” Pearl says and heads for the sofa.

Connie nods and texts Steven a reply.

> 
>         
>                      Connie:
>      We're done with the new
>      duplicator now. Text me
>     when we should come help
>               you and Garnet
>     
>       

The two Clonnies lower Connie to the floor, and Connie dismisses them with the bracelet, reducing them to mist. “Would it be OK if I watch TV while we wait?”

Amethyst hands Connie a glass of water as requested. “Sure thing, girl. Just let us know when Steven gets in touch.” Connie accepts the glass as offered, and Amethyst darts past her, dropping onto the sofa next to Pearl with an enthusiastic grin on her face.

Before long, Connie has settled down in front of Steven’s charmingly outdated TV set (her parents jumped on the flat-screen bandwagon as soon as the image quality was acceptable.) There she tries her best to ignore the giggles and whispers from below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in tomorrow for another chapter.


	84. A Seer's Advice on Magical Destinies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note — I edited the end of 83. It felt a little weak upon re-reading.

Steven and Garnet step out onto the deck.

Nothing funny about that.

“So, where do we start?” Steven asks.

“We start where we know something related to Peridot happened,” Garnet answers.

“And what do we do then?”

“Work our way backwards.” Garnet looks at Steven. “So, you tell me — where do we start?”

Steven scratches his head. “Uh, well, if Peridot sent the mutants, we can start at the hospital — only I don’t know where it is. Lion does, though. He can take us there.”

Garnet nods. “Now, if you can’t find your lion, what do we do?”

Steven squints at her. “Are you saying you see us having to go there without?”

“No,” Garnet says and smiles. “I’m just testing you. Let’s find your lion.”

It’s a short walk down the staircase to the ramp, and Lion is lying right where it usually does — under the deck.

“Well, I suppose,” Steven says, “I could look up the location and we could have gotten my dad to drive us.”

“That’s a good plan-B,” Garnet says.

Steven smiles at the encouragement and jumps the gap between the ramp and the foundation. “Lion, buddy, there’s a Lion Licker in it for you if you take me and Garnet to the hospital.”

Lion’s ears perk up. It lifts its head and looks at Steven, snuffles, and stands up.

“I think he’ll do it,” Steven says to Garnet.

Lion jumps the gap and lies down on the ramp, looking at Steven and Garnet.

Garnet walks up to the beast and holds out a hand. Lion sniffs it. It’s almost a meaningful conversation.

They mount up, Steven in front, Garnet behind him. “Ready?” Steven asks.

* * *

A long-ish portal jump later, they land in the parking lot. Steven feeds Lion another super-cooled Lion Licker, as promised.

Garnet silently looks over the hospital building.

“Yup. Wait ’til you see the inside,” Steven says.

Garnet nods. “Let’s go.”

* * *

They enter the hospital through the front doors, and although the setting is familiar, it is a little busier. The receptionist is on his post behind the counter for one. An Asian-American fellow in his thirties, dressed in scrubs.

“Can I help you two with anything?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Steven says. “Is Dr. Maheswaran at work today?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“We’re just friends stopping by to say hi,” Garnet says and puts a hand on Steven’s shoulder.

“Sure,” the receptionist says. His name tag reads ‘Jeffry.’ He clicks through something on the computer — an older thing with a cathode ray tube screen and everything. “She is at work, you can try at her office, but she might be with a patient.”

“She’s not,” Garnet says. “Let’s go, Steven.”

“The room number is —” the receptionist begins.

“I know what room number it is,” Garnet says. Steven reaches out and takes her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “— Have a good day,” Garnet adds.

* * *

The elevators are still huge, fast and impressive.

“Big elevator, huh?” Steven says.

“Yup,” Garnet says.

They reach the fifth floor, and the doors open to a nurse with a patient in a wheelchair. Steven gives them a wave as they walk out.

It’s a little ways down the corridor of the east wing that they find room E527 — there’s a little sign next to the door reading ‘Dr. Maheswaran’ and below that ‘Dr. Stromberg.’

Garnet raps her knuckles gently on the pale blue door three times, and Priyanka’s voice sounds from the inside: “A moment.”

A moment later, she opens the door. “Oh, goodness. Garnet… Steven? What can I do for you?”

“Hello Dr. Maheswaran,” Steven says.

“Regarding the events of yesterday…” Garnet says and adjusts her visor. “We have some questions.”

Priyanka sighs. “Me too. I was about to go to lunch. Perhaps you could join me?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Steven says.

* * *

There’s a small park adjacent to the hospital. It’s not officially hospital property, but the patients and personnel alike enjoy it. Around lunch, a few carts open up selling sandwiches and better coffee, and today is no exception.

One of several dozen picnic tables provide seating. Priyanka buys a coffee and a tuna sandwich. Steven politely declines her offer to buy him something.

“Before we begin, Dr. Maheswaran,” Garnet says, “you should really get the full story from your daughter when you see her tonight.”

Priyanka takes a bite of her sandwich and chews, looking at Garnet with a subtle mix of skepticism and exasperated acceptance of magic being part of her life. She swallows. “… OK. Doug gave me a very abridged version of events which he got from you, Steven.”

“Yeah,” Steven says. “The Gem mutants attacked us and we defended ourselves and protected the cee-dee-something guards from attack. Connie used her clones to defeat one of them while I… Handled the other one.” He looks down into the table. “It didn’t go so well for most of her clones. A lot of them— a lot of them died, I think. Connie didn’t take it so well. It was… Kinda horrific to look at.”

Priyanka nods. She remembers the sight of that one clone of her daughter with a blade through her chest far more vividly than she likes to admit. “You two didn’t get hurt otherwise?”

Steven shakes his head.

“Where is she now?” Priyanka asks.

“With Opal,” Steven replies. “Back in the temple. They are working on a better cloning device. One where the Clonnies don’t end up… Well…”

Priyanka nods. “Good.”

“We’re here to investigate where they came from,” Garnet says. “We suspect the rogue Homeworld Gem Peridot is the culprit.”

Priyanka sips her coffee — black, no sugar. “Well, they were picked up down at the highway intersection —” she spends a moment orienting herself, then points in the direction; having learned a while ago that the Gems don’t care nearly as much for roads and their names as for where roads lie. “They were taken to the seventh floor — Steven can show you where.”

“Thank you for the information,” Garnet says.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Priyanka says. “But, can you tell me what _is_ going on?”

Garnet looks away. Steven looks at Garnet for a moment, then he starts explaining: “The Gem mutants come from a place that’s kind of far away and we’re pretty sure they didn’t walk here. So we think Peridot put them here… Maybe to give us some trouble? The important part is finding her and stopping her.”

Priyanka nods, and takes another bite of her sandwich.

“Garnet,” Steven says. “How _are_ we going to find Peridot? She’s probably long gone by now.”

Garnet turns to him and adjusts her visor. “The future is not the only thing I can see.”

It takes a moment for the gears in Steven’s head to turn, but only a moment. “You have past-vision too?” Steven asks, mildly surprised. “I guess that kind of makes sense.”

“It’s not an ability I use a lot, and I am only passably skilled with it. But with a few clues I can most certainly track Peridot,” Garnet explains.

“Well, it sounds like you two have important things to do, then?” Priyanka asks.

“Yes. Thank you for your time, Maheswaran,” Garnet says and stands.

Steven follows suit. “Have a great weekend, Dr. Maheswaran.”

“Please, call me Priyanka,” she says. “And, likewise.”

* * *

Garnet and Steven venture back to the hospital. Their destination is the seventh floor — the Quarantine.

Steven walks with his hands in the pockets of his gray hoodie. “Garnet, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are— are you alright?”

Garnet doesn’t answer.

“Is it the Gem mutants that are bothering you?”

“They are always bothering me, Steven,” Garnet says.

“Yeah,” Steven says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but that’s not…” Steven says. “It’s going to be OK, Garnet. We’ll solve this.”

In the elevator, Garnet turns her futuristic body-suit-and-breastplate combo into a sharp-looking black suit. Her shirt is maroon and the tie is dark blue.

“What’s that for?” Steven asks.

“Stealth.”

It is quite a sight to see a teen in a hoodie and a seven-feet-tall government agent emerge onto the seventh floor. Steven leads the way to the Quarantine section.

Steven presses the door opening button to no avail. The automatic doors to the airlock are locked, and on a keypad next to them blinks a little red indicator.

Garnet steps up next to the keypad and points at it. A spark jumps from her fingertip to the keypad, and the light changes to green. “Try it now,” she says.

This time it opens.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Steven says. “That’s really cool.”

Garnet smiles, holds up her finger and blows at the tip, as if it were a smoking gun. Then she steps into the airlock and Steven follows.

* * *

The hallway inside is still a mess — less than twenty four hours is far from enough for the staff to get over the shock of the event and then clean the aftermath of battle.

Fallen ceiling panels, the destroyed door and the equally ruined frame it used to inhabit, a broken window. The glass shards have been swept up, and the door — despite it being buckled — has been propped up against the wall more or less where it landed.

Unbridled, the memory of the fight returns to Steven — far too vividly for comfort; especially how the Gem Mutant spasmed under his blows. Yesterday’s actions feel as if they crawl on his back. Steven shivers.

“Are you OK, Steven?” Garnet asks.

He takes a deep breath and sighs. “I don’t like fighting. Hurting people. I know it’s necessary sometimes, but that doesn’t…”

“That doesn’t make you like it any more,” Garnet finishes. “Rose spoke for non-violence too.”

Steven fidgets at the mention of Rose. “Garnet, you know what Rose said to me, don’t you?”

Garnet turns away from the vista of destruction. She kneels down to Steven’s height. “In part. You want to tell me something about it.”

Steven looks away, and without conscious direction, his hand goes to the gem in his navel.

“Mom…” he says. “She knew creating me would mean her death. She did it anyway, because she didn’t want to live anymore.”

Garnet nods. “I know that.”

Steven looks at her. “Do Pearl and Amethyst?”

“I don’t know,” Garnet answers.

Steven looks away again. “My dad knows she did. He wishes he could have helped her.”

Garnet nods.

“She… She wanted me to become a king,” Steven says and clutches his Gem. “And make an army of humans to fight Yellow Diamond. It was her dying wish, the magical destiny she prepared me for…”

Tears gather in his eyes. “I’m not sure I can do that, Garnet.”

Garnet puts a hand on his shoulder, and with the other wipes his tears away. “Steven,” she begins. “Your mother chose—” she hesitates again.

“I know she could have lived on,” Garnet says in a harder tone. “And not passed on her Gem to you, and to be honest, I resent her for that.

“For much of her life, war was all Rose knew. War and power. She charmed others into doing what she wanted, and used the love her followers had for her to sustain their loyalty. Never did it occur to her that there could be an alternative.

“The life you have is a gift Rose gave you, and a gift is always freely given. If you don’t like her legacy, you don’t have to live any of it. You can find your own way in this world.”

Garnet pulls him into a hug.

“I love you, Steven. More than I miss _her._ So does Pearl and Amethyst. We wouldn’t trade you for Rose, not ever. Remember that.”

Steven hugs Garnet back and cries quietly. Tears of relief, and of mourning.

* * *

Garnet conjures a napkin from somewhere for Steven to wipe his eyes and blow his nose.

“Are you feeling better now?” She asks.

He nods.

“Then let’s figure out the chain of events,” Garnet says and stands. “I need you to tell me everything that happened here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in tomorrow for ANOTHER chapter. Yes, I am not done.


	85. Dive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised…
> 
> And welcome to the new skin! Hopefully this is easier on the eyes. Let me know in the comments!

Steven looks uncomprehendingly at Garnet. “Why?”

Garnet adjusts her visor. “Well, do you remember what I told you about future vision?”

Steven shrugs. “I remember you said a lot of things I didn’t understand.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, well. It’s hard to describe, so I wax poetic.”

“So, at the risk of hearing more things I don’t understand…” Steven says. “Explain it to me?”

Garnet pauses for a little before speaking. “Determining the course of the most likely future is far from trivial, but ultimately it is about going with the flow and letting events unfold as they will.

“The past is a lot trickier than that. Time resents being put back into the bottle it was poured from, which makes it a lot easier to misstep and see the likely past, rather than the actual one.”

Steven nods sagely. “I think I get it. The more you know about what happened, the better?”

“Exactly,” Garnet says. “You harvest as you sow, when it comes to looking at the past.”

* * *

Steven walks Garnet through the events of yesterday’s battle — how the Mutants acted up when Steven and Connie arrived, how the many-armed one broke the window and climbed onto the ceiling, and the brute busted down the door.

How Steven used his bubble-burst trick. How he wrestled it. How he beat it into submission. How Connie used an army of herself and lost most.

Garnet nods her way through his entire explanation. Then she starts asking questions. Easy ones, like what the mutants looked like, what Connie was wearing, and how they left. But also hard ones:

“How many Clonnies did Connie use?” Garnet asks.

Steven scratches his head. “I dunno. About… Twenty?”

“Hmm,” she says. “How tall were the two guards?”

Steven shrugs.

“Was the man left-handed?”

Another shrug.

“How far did your bubble trick throw them back?”

Another shrug.

Garnet rubs her chin, looking over the evidence at the scene.

“I think the many-armed one cut it’s foot on the glass, if that helps,” Steven adds.

“It does,” she says. “But it is not enough. The cleaning has disturbed things too much.”

“Sorry I’m not more helpful,” Steven says.

Garnet turns to him. “I have another trick we can try. But if you don’t like it, that is OK.”

Steven cocks his head curiously.

“I can pass my past-sight to you, and let you see this place as it was when you were here,” Garnet says.

“And then you can see what I see?” Steven asks.

“No, sadly. A vision is a personal experience.”

Steven deliberates on the proposal for a little while. “I think I can do it.”

“Be warned though,” Garnet says. “A fight is horrific when you are in it. Looking at it from a distance in time is _worse._ ”

Steven pales, but steels himself. “Let’s do it.”

Garnet holds out a hand, palm up. “Push against my hand.”

Steven puts his hand on hers and pushes downwards.

“Now close your eyes.”

Steven obliges.

“Focus on your breathing.”

He takes a deep breath.

At once, Garnet’s hand disappears below him, and two fingers pokes his forehead.

“ _Dive!_ ”

Then the world falls away under him.

* * *

All sense of location and time is gone. Around Steven is a lightless, soundless space — or so it feels.

_Steven, listen to me._

“Garnet?” Steven asks.

_Focus on my voice. Breathe deeply. I’ve put you in a shallow trance._

Steven orients himself. He is still standing up, still wearing his clothes. “Oh. Cool.”

He breathes deeply. In and out. It is enormously relaxing.

_I want you to think back to this place, how it looked yesterday evening when you came here with Connie._

Steven thinks back, and around him the hospital halls come into being — only he is outside the Quarantine wing, Garnet is gone, and he is holding Connie by the hand.

_What do you see?_

Steven pauses, and the world slows to a halt. He looks around.

“I’m with Connie. We’re sneaking up to the airlock.”

_OK. Go with how you remember the chain of events._

Steven follows through the motions — Connie opening the door and them sneaking in. The guard Sara noticing them. Steven relays the events to Garnet as they happen.

_I want you to take a peek. Don’t worry about whether she sees you._

Steven considers the situation and decides to do more than just peek. With pure dream logic he steps around the door and leaves himself behind.

_What do you see?_

“I see myself and Connie crouching behind the door, and the guard is looking out into the hallway behind us.”

_You see yourself?_

“Yeah. I’m looking at myself behind the door. If that guard woman had taken two more steps towards us, she could have seen us.”

_That’s… That ought to be impossible._

“What is?”

_You can’t look at yourself from outside your body. It doesn’t make any sense._

“You can in dreams. This is a lot like one, so I just thought I would try it. You know dreams, right?”

_This is interesting. Even I can’t do what you describe in this kind of dive. What do her shoes look like?_

Steven looks at the footwear in question. “They are black. Work-shoe-like— Garnet, can I ask you something?”

_Yes?_

“Why are you asking all these questions?”

_Corroborating detail. The more I know, the better I can find the true past._

“Oh,” Steven says. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Steven starts describing Connie, the walls, and the ambient sounds — somehow audible even though everything is frozen. He describes the guardswoman’s outfit in detail, down to her earrings and how her shoelaces are tied.

When he has exhausted the details available he lets the vision proceed, relaying dialog and movements back to Garnet. The Gem mutants become agitated and Steven describes his and Connie’s combat preparations, down to where and how the tarp landed.

He describes how the guardsman looked — hair color, posture, height, dominant hand, shoelace color… Then he lets the scene proceed, as the Mutants take action.

“Armstrong breaks the window—”

_Armstrong?_

“The one with—” Steven counts “— six arms. It is wearing a hospital gown, cuts its foot on the glass. The window has broken into…”

It takes Steven a bit longer to count the shards strewn across the floor.

“…Seventy-nine shards, discounting the ones that are smaller than my fingernail.”

_This is enormously helpful._

Steven singles out the ceiling tiles Armstrong climbs upon, he quotes Connie’s badass declaration of their intent to hunt monsters, he describes how the guards huddle behind them…

“The other mutant, let’s call it… Brawny— it charges and I throw up my shield. Armstrong falls on top of the bubble…”

He continues with a detailed account of the split second preparations for the battle, down to the poses of everyone involved — himself, Connie, and the two terrified guards.

He hesitates when it comes to the actual battle.

_You can stop if you want. I have enough to get a good picture…_

“No, I— I wanna do this,” Steven says.

He goes on recounting how the two monsters get thrown back, how Connie starts manifesting her army, how he body slams Brawny… How he breaks its elbow with Connie’s baton in a single strike… How Armstrong effortlessly mangles several Clonnies…

Steven hesitates, and with his hesitance the scene stops. In free view is the horrific tableau of Clonnie after Clonnie, clutching broken bones, bleeding cuts, dislocated joints. Some vomiting — blood and otherwise, due to stomach injuries.

He takes a deep breath.

_Steven, you can stop anytime you want. I’m serious, you don’t need to do this if it is uncomfortable._

Steven continues, recounting how the Clonnies pull the creature down from the ceiling… And how Connie looks on almost oblivious to the carnage, dead focused on the monster.

“Connie… She’s… A little scary.”

_Yes._

Steven looks over at himself — having overpowered an opponent more than five times his size, and beating it into destabilization with the steel butt of a comparatively feeble baton.

“Garnet, do you think am I scary when I fight?”

_Yes. Everyone is._

Steven nods slowly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is an actual hypnosis technique, peppered with a little Gem Magic.
> 
> Tune in tomorrow for another chapter.


	86. Special Agent Garnet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Oysterbomb is drawing to a close: two more chapters after this one is all I have.
> 
> If the custom style is bugging you there's a button near the top of the page labeled "Hide Creator Style."

Steven relays the last relevant details Garnet can think to ask for.

_Are you ready to come back to reality?_

“Yeah,” Steven says, looking after himself and Connie trudging down the hall towards the elevators.

_At the count of three, you will be back with me._

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

The view of him and Connie disappear, replaced by the very same hallway in the present. Steven looks around, mildly confused.

“You walked around a bit,” Garnet explains.

“I did?” Steven asks. “I guess it did feel like I was walking around…”

“You did very well, Steven,” Garnet says and ruffles his hair. “I’m proud of you. And zip your hoodie.”

Steven complies, looking up at her with some confusion. Garnet points to the airlock. Steven turns and sees a stern looking woman stepping into the airlock accompanied by a security guard. Garnet straightens her tie and adjusts her visor while the airlock cycles.

“Play it cool,” Garnet mutters to Steven. He puts his hands in his pockets and puts on his best aloof look.

The inner door opens and the womans steps through. Black hair, stern eyes, narrow jaw, tall and gangly. “What is the meaning of this?” She says.

Garnet reaches inside her jacket and withdraws an ID badge, flashing the sigil on the cover and flipping it open. “FBI special agent… Meagan Cristal,” Garnet says in a dead level voice. “This is my consultant, Stephen, and I could ask you the same, Dr. Moss.”

“What business does the FBI have poking around my hospital?” she retorts. “And how old is that kid— eleven? What kind of eleven-year-old consults for the FBI?”

“Yesterday night an incident of a paranormal nature occurred here, and I had to hear about it from the two CDC guards stationed in this very quarantine wing. If I didn’t know better I’d suspect you of trying to keep it under wraps to maintain the hospital’s image.”

Doctor Moss pales visibly at the accusation.

Garnet continues. “Dean of Medicine or not, I could slap you with an obstruction of justice charge, so how about you let us work in peace and no-one has to have their careers ruined. Hm?

“And as for what Stephen does, it is classified. I am his chaperone on excursions and he is invaluable in our investigations.”

Doctor Moss looks conflicted for a moment, glancing at the security guard, before speaking: “I apologize, agent— ?”

“Special agent Meagan Cristal,” Garnet supplies.

“ _Special_ agent Cristal. If there is anything I can do to help, please…”

Garnet nods. “The two patients who rampaged here. I’ll need to know what personnel attended to them, and what ambulances — vehicles as well as drivers — brought them here.”

* * *

Within ten minutes, Garnet has received a list of people who, according to hospital records, interacted with the patients, as well as the patient files for the Gem mutants themselves. (It only took a little bit of Garnet-style intimidation to get the dean to violate her rule against releasing patient records without a warrant.)

Garnet and Steven stand in the garage, looking into one of the ambulances that brought the two mutants to the hospital.

“Was all of that a lie?” Steven asks Garnet.

“Most. But she won’t report it. Won’t even think to contact the real FBI to ask about us.”

“Why?” Steven asks.

“Same reason she kept the incident under wraps. The secrecy device your mother built has that effect on those who come into direct contact with Gem magic.”

“Huh,” Steven says. “It was really cool, though. I didn’t even know you could act that well!”

Garnet chuckles. “That is what happens when I warm up and do things more like Ruby would. Sapphire is the one cooling things down, and making sure nobody gets hurt. It felt good — I haven’t pulled rank in ages.”

Then she takes out a cellphone and starts dialing, while looking at the list of names. She waits for the call to connect, and smiles at Steven, holding a finger to her lips. “Hello, Mr. Smith? This is special agent Cristal from the FBI, I would like to ask you a few questions…

“No, you are not in any trouble, it’s about a patient you transported yesterday…

“That would be the one, yes. Can I ask what route you drove to get from the accident site to the hospital?

“Alright, thank you. That will be all…

“And a good day to you too, sir,” she says and hangs up.

Steven leans against the ambulance, playing it cool. “So, what was that about?”

“I’m going to be making a few phone calls, to get corroborating details from hospital staff. The one I just finished was the ambulance driver who drove Armstrong here.”

She starts dialing again. Steven catches a glimpse of the list of names. There are no phone numbers on it.

* * *

Garnet alternates between dialing people blindly — with perfect reliability — and asking enormously specific questions about the events of yesterday.

After a few such calls Steven grows bored and checks his phone, hoping for a text from Connie. He is in luck.

> 
>         
>     Connie:
>     Opal is making me a
>     new and improved
>     duplicator.
>     
>     Connie:
>     And she took me for
>     a roller coaster
>     ride of a trip
>     through the temple.
>     
>                         Steven:
>                           Cool!
>         I'm pretending to be an
>          FBI agent with Garnet.
>     
>       

He waits for a reply, but nothing comes in time for him to see it.

“Fortunately, all of the people we need to speak to can be reached. We’ll be leaving soon,” Garnet says, while dialing.

Steven nods.

* * *

“So where are we going next?” Steven asks as they leave the garage.

“To the intersection where it all happened,” Garnet says. “Hopefully there will be some evidence there I can use to reconstruct events. You should find your lion.”

They emerge into open air. “ _Lii~oo~n!_ ” Steven calls out. “It usually takes him a little while,” he adds when no pink feline appears.

Garnet nods and leans up against the wall of the hospital building.

“What do you mean ‘hopefully’ there will be evidence?” Steven asks.

“It happened yesterday. There has probably already been a cleanup operation, which obscures things,” Garnet says.

“Can’t you just find the tapes from one of the traffic cameras?”

Garnet looks up at Steven for at beat. “That is an _excellent_ idea, Steven.”

He blushes at the compliment. “Well, I saw it in a crime show once.”

Garnet nods. “We need to get access to the traffic center and review the footage, then.”

Steven looks at her, puzzled. “Garnet, You can look at traffic camera feeds online. I can probably even find a TubeTube video…”

“Oh,” Garnet says. “That is a lot easier. Can you find it on your phone? I’ll need it while I’m on site.”

Steven opens a search-engine app on his phone, and Garnet shifts back into her regular outfit.

“I’ll go on ahead and investigate. You’ll get a text when I am there, then use Lion to jump to me,” she says.

Steven nods, and Garnet leaps off into the sky.

* * *

Steven and Lion emerge from the portal, and skid to a halt next to Garnet.

The vista is the side of a large, two-lane road. Even in the middle of the day, there’s a lot of traffic. A little ways down the road, it intersects a cross-street. The roadsides are lightly forested.

Garnet stands balancing on the traffic barrier. Her hair would sway dramatically in the breeze if it weren’t such a stiff ’do.

“Hi,” Steven says. “I found a few videos. There’s multiple angles, but the connection is kinda slow…”

Garnet nods slowly.

He dismounts, and Lion promptly trots off to investigate a nearby tree. “Any luck?”

“Bits and pieces,” Garnet says.

Steven unlocks his phone and navigates to the playlist he created in the TubeTube app, then hands it to Garnet. She takes it and watches in silence, occasionally pausing and looking up at the road.

When impatience asserts itself, Steven takes to watching Lion. The big cat has taken a liking to a tree, and is in the process of sharpening its claws on it — cutting deep gauges into the trunk.

“Do you need to concentrate, or can we talk?” Steven asks and leans on the traffic barrier.

“What’s on your mind?” Garnet asks.

Steven ponders his words a little. “Garnet, you’ve been through a lot, lately. More than any of us.

“Jasper defeating you, Malachite, Amethyst’s regenerations, the fusion experiments… Sardonyx… Even Connie’s parents and Stevonnie.”

“I’ll manage,” Garnet says.

“I know you will,” Steven says with a smile. “You’re Garnet — you’re the toughest Gem around. But I’m just saying— you can always talk to us about it. You know that, right?”

Garnet looks down at Steven and smiles. “Yeah.”

“So why don’t you do it?” Steven asks.

She sighs. “I was a General. During the war, and after. Your mother trusted me with a lot of dangerous missions, and to keep Pearl and Amethyst safe.

“When she… Died… I became a pillar for Pearl and Amethyst to lean on. Old habits — that was what I had been to my soldiers.

“I have myself. I’m never alone, but sometimes even that is not enough,” she says grimly. “In my darkest hour, Pearl and Amethyst are the standards I hold myself to. If they can do it, and I can’t, what does that make me?.”

Steven reaches over and puts a hand on her shin. “You don’t have to be strong always. Not anymore. It’s OK to be weak.

“If you can’t do what Pearl or Amethyst can do, then that just makes you just like us — we can’t do a lot of things you can do.

“And that’s why we’re a team, isn’t it? So we can rely on each other. Together we’re way better than we are on our own.”

Garnet takes off her visor and wipes an eye with a fingertip. “Wise words,” she says.

Steven shrugs. “I don’t know. Connie is the smarter one,” he says.

Then she turns on the barrier and hops down. She crouches down to Steven’s height and opens her arms to Steven.

They hug, and Garnet whispers: “ _Thanks_.”

“Any time,” Steven says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in tomorrow for another chapter.


	87. Calling for Reinforcements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go of the Oysterbomb. It looks like 88 will be the last chapter of the year… Maybe.

On the other side of the highway Garnet finally pinpoints where the Gem Mutants came from. There’s a noticeable trail left by them too — broken branches and trampled underbrush.

They follow the trail away from the roads, Garnet in front, then Steven, and lastly Lion.

(Crossing the street with the big pink critter in tow drew quite a few stares.)

“This is kind of obvious,” Steven says. “Why did you need to find out all those past-vision things?”

“Because,” Garnet says, “I need to deduce what direction Peridot came from, and where she left to. She can fly, remember?”

Steven nods. “Figures. Do you think you can do it?”

“Yes,” Garnet says.

After a quarter hour of walking in silence at a brisk pace — Steven having to trot at times to keep up with Garnet’s long strides — they arrive at a meadow of sorts.

The trail ends there.

Garnet stops and crosses her arms, scanning the ground.

“Any luck?” Steven asks.

“Yes. She was here, dropped them off, and flew off. The wind from her helicopter fingers disturbed the earth.”

Garnet looks up and pans around, perhaps looking for clues, perhaps looking at the past.

“Where to?” Steven asks, following her gaze.

“Difficult to pin down. Wait here.”

Garnet kicks off, kicking up a cloud of leaves and dirt. In a few short bounds between tree trunks, she ends up standing on the uppermost branches of a tall birch.

Steve whistles at the display — not only the climbing, but the fact that there is no way her vantage point in the foliage could realistically support her weight.

She’s barely up there for a minute before she drops down and lands as lightly as a feather. (Steven had kind of hoped she would crater in — that would have been cooler.)

“I need more data,” Garnet says. “I’m going to find the original recordings.”

“Will that help?” Steven asks.

Garnet nods. “Chances are good since it’s closer to the source.”

* * *

The traffic center is too far for a stroll, according to Garnet, so once again Steven gets left behind to wait it out, then jump with Lion; while Garnet gets to jump into the sky like always.

He elects to take a nap, and Lion joins him happily. From Lion’s mane comes a blanket, and Steven wraps himself in it before leaning back on a cushion of pink fur.

“What a day. What do you think, Lion?”

Lion exhales hard through its nostrils, but doesn’t move.

“Me too, buddy,” Steven says and closes his eyes.

* * *

The five-note progression of his ringtone is what wakes Steven. Groggily he answers it. “Hullo?”

“ _Steven, I think I know where Peridot disappeared to now,_ ” Garnet says from the other end of the line.

“That’s great —” Steven yawns “— should Lion and I come to you?”

“ _Yes._ ” she replies. “ _Did I wake you?_ ”

“Yeah, I took a nap.”

“ _Good use of your time. See you soon._ ”

Steven hangs up the call and looks at his phone — it’s afternoon already. There’s a new text from Connie:

> 
>         
>     Connie:
>     We're done with the new
>     duplicator now. Text me
>     when we should come help
>     you and Garnet
>     
>       

He pockets it, shrugs off the blanket, rises, and stretches. “Rise and shine, Lion. Garnet got a lead.”

The blanket gets balled up and tucked away in Lion’s mane, and Steven climbs atop the pink creature. It roars another portal into existence and leaps into it…

* * *

… And out into a parking lot next to an office building. Garnet is wearing a suit again.

“Did you do the FBI thing again?” Steven asks.

Garnet just smiles enigmatically. “Steven, can you get Lion to jump us back to the clearing?”

“Oh,” Steven says. “Well, as long as Lion doesn’t mind being a taxi service.” He looks down at Lion, who turns its head to look up at him. “What do you say buddy — jump us back to that clearing for a Lion Licker?”

Lion makes a noise in between a growl and a meow.

Steven looks up at Garnet. “That means yes… I think. Also, Connie texted me; they’re ready if we need backup.”

Garnet nods. “We do.”

* * *

Under the promise of more Lion Lickers, Lion lets Garnet off in the clearing, then jumps back to the beach house.

 _Into_ the beach house.

Connie is up in his bedroom, watching TV with earphones in, while Pearl and Amethyst have taken the sofa — Pearl sitting on Amethyst’s lap. The two of them are — in the very instant Steven warps in — locked in a tender kiss.

Steven’s eyes go wide as saucers.

Pearl and Amethyst both startle, turn to look at him and then scramble apart, blushing furiously.

Connie pulls one earphone out and turns to greet him. “Hi Steven!”

Steven hops off Lion, still looking at Pearl and Amethyst in surprise. “Hi Connie,” he echoes.

Pearl fairly quickly composes herself and looks back at Steven, still blushing turquoise. “Hello, Steven.”

“Are you two in… Love?” Steven asks.

“Yes they are,” Connie says deadpan. “Totally and irrevocably… And loudly.”

Steven looks from Pearl to Amethyst. She squirms under his gaze. “What are you looking at?” she snaps.

“You two,” Steven says matter-of-factly. “I’m surprised, but… Not _that_ surprised, I guess.”

“You should have seen them when they unfused,” Connie adds from up above. She stands, pulls on her jacket and girds her dress. In her by now signature move, she jumps down from the loft and lands in a roll. “They were _really_ into it.”

“Connie!” Pearl hisses, then composes herself. “It’s a recent development, Steven. We weren’t keeping anything from you.”

Steven nods. “I know. I’m happy for you, and I have some thinking to do…” he looks down for a beat, then shakes his head “— But right now I’m here to pick all of you up; we have work to do!”

* * *

With the promise of not one, but two Lion Lickers, and that Amethyst shapeshifts into a small cat, the four of them get to ride Lion — Steven in front with Amethyst in his lap, Connie behind him, and Pearl in the back. One portal jump later they arrive in the clearing, to meet a waiting Garnet.

“Hello you three,” Garnet says.

“Garnet!” Connie yells, hopping off Lion. “The most unbelievable thing happened— you’ll absolutely die of shock!”

Steven stifles a giggle. Pearl blushes, and if Amethyst does too, her fur hides it.

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” Garnet says.

Pearl slides off Lion with the grace of a gymnast. Amethyst leaps off Steven with the offended mannerism only a house cat can display. She shifts back into her default form and jogs up to Pearl.

“Connie, you’re kinda mean,” Steven says, giggling and hops off lion.

Connie throws her hands up in the air. “Yeah. _Ugh,_ these two, Steven. Lovestruck teenagers, I tell you what!”

“Maheswaran, I am literally a thousand times older than you,” Pearl says sardonically. “And now if you two are quite finished, Garnet, what is the plan?”

Garnet just smiles and perhaps looks from Pearl to Amethyst — it is hard to tell with her visor. “I need details.”

Pearl groans. “ _Really?_ You too?!”

“Yeah,” Amethyst concurs, exasperated. “So what if Pearl and I— So what if all of you saw it coming? Steven is some kind of people-reading savant, and G-squad literally knows the future! It’s not like we’re making fun of Rube and Blegg” — she gestures to Garnet — “or how Stevonnie was basically a love confession on legs from day one!”

“Well said, Amethyst,” Pearl says and puts a hand on Amethyst’s shoulder.

The incongruity of the exchange gives everyone pause.

“Sorry,” Steven says sheepishly. “I kinda started it, didn’t I?”

Connie takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. “No. If anyone is to blame, it’s me—”

“Pearl and Amethyst,” Garnet says, interrupting Connie, “We are all very happy things worked out for you, and it was unfair of us to tease you. Let us not dwell on it — we have a Peridot to catch.”

Connie flicks her wrist, conjuring three Clonnies in training outfits armed with sabre and buckler. Amethyst cracks her knuckles.

Garnet smiles at the display of enthusiasm. “Here’s what we’re gonna do…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in tomorrow for the ninth and last chapter of the december 2015 Oysterbomb (wasn't the last time I posted ~11 chapters on consecutive days sometime in… September?)
> 
> It's been a ride, people. 2015 is drawing to a close, expect Peridot in the holidays and new year.


	88. Sweet Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, here is the final Oysterbomb 2.0 chapter.

It is almost midnight when they finally give up.

In a remarkable touch of brilliance, Garnet and Connie ended up joining forces: while Garnet’s future vision allows her to search without searching, she is limited by manpower, and while Connie has no such limitations, she has no other special abilities of note.

Together they have found Peridot to be nowhere in Delmarva, nor in at least a quarter of New Guernsey, nor in East Virginia — at least as far as the national forests.

They stop by an intersection of two anonymous country roads, Steven on Lion, Connie carried piggyback by Garnet.

“We’re not gonna find her,” Garnet states. “Her fingers are too fast, and the children are getting tired.”

“No, no, I’m OK,” Connie says.

“Your last batch of Clonnies weren’t looking so hot, C-squad,” Amethyst says. “Super strength or not, they get your brain, and your brain needs a nap. Not to mention it’s way too dark…”

“Yeah, OK,” Connie says.

“Are you three going to keep searching?” Steven asks. “I could take Connie home on Lion.”

“Please do, Steven,” Pearl says.

Garnet kneels and Connie climbs off her back. She takes Steven’s offered hand, and he pulls her onto Lion.

“Connie,” Pearl says. “As your teacher, I am proud to say you did great on your first real mission. Don’t let this setback bother you.”

“Yes,” Garnet adds. “You don’t know it, but I saw you use them to impressive effect in situations that could have arisen. You are a force to be reckoned with.”

“What they said, and sleep well,” Amethyst adds. “We’ll soldier on.”

Connie gives a thumbs up, and slings an arm around Steven. Steven spurs Lion lightly, and the beast prepares for another portal jump.

* * *

They emerge into the backyard of the Maheswaran residence.

“I feel like I’m gonna sleep for a week,” Connie says as she slides off Lion’s back.

“You should probably see if Mothe— I mean your mom wants to talk to you,” Steven says.

She finds a key in her jacket pocket and proceeds to unlock the back door, while Steven scratches Lion behind the ear.

The big cat lies down on the patio, and the two proceed inside, into the kitchen.

“Connie, is that you?” Priyanka calls out from the living room.

“Hi mother,” Connie calls back.

Priyanka comes into the kitchen. “Hello again, Steven.”

“Hello, Priyanka,” Steven says.

Connie fetches drinking glasses and fills them, offering one to Steven.

“Connie, you’re not in trouble, but we need to talk. Your father and I are… Concerned. Have you had dinner?”

“No,” Connie says, realizing just how hungry she is. “… I had a late lunch.”

“I’ll heat you some leftovers,” Priyanka says and heads for the fridge. “Steven, what about you?”

“Yes please,” Steven says and takes a seat by the dining table.

Priyanka nods. “Now, I have heard parts of it from Doug and from you, Steven, but if at all possible, I would like to have the whole picture.

“After you texted me that you were going up to take a look, what happened?”

“Are…” Connie says. “You wanna to talk _now?_ Isn’t it way past my bedtime?”

“Yes. Mine too. And I suspect Steven’s too if his aunts have that sort of thing. If you are too tired, we can take it up tomorrow, but it doesn’t seem that way.

“Otherwise? It _is_ Saturday tomorrow, and your father has a late shift… We might as well just all sleep in tomorrow.”

Connie looks at Steven and nods.

“We decided to sneak in…” Steven begins.

* * *

Over microwave-heated rice and fried vegetables Steven and Connie relay the story in detail — from their prodigious stealth, to how the monsters attacked, to how the battle went well but at a terrible price…

Priyanka remembers that horrid scene in the Sky Arena possibly even better than Connie does. “Connie…” she says, clutching a cup of tea.

“Yes, Mother?”

“I am supportive, and very proud of you…” Priyanka says. “And if you want to continue it, the only caveat is going to be that you will see a therapist.”

Connie and Steven exchange looks.

“Sure, I guess,” Connie says. “Although, I should check with the Gems if I can talk about magic stuff with a therapist— if they need to be on the white list or something.”

“I’m glad you are not opposed to it,” Priyanka says. “So, with that out of the way, what have you been doing today? Other than hunting a rogue Gem, that is.”

“We went over to Beach City after breakfast…” Connie begins.

* * *

Connie finishes her side of the story, and Priyanka understandably has some reservations about Opal’s behavior. Steven is quick to distract with his side of events.

“ _Garnet_ … Impersonated a _federal officer,_ ” Priyanka says in disbelief.

Steven looks at Connie. “Is… Is that bad?” he asks.

Priyanka pinches the bridge of her nose. “Yes, Steven. It’s a federal offense.”

“Well… I didn’t know that,” he replies, almost apologetically. “She did say that the secrecy thing will work in her favor, so it sounds like nobody is going to find out.”

“… I’ll have some words with her about this, Steven,” Priyanka says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Yes ma’am,” Steven says.

Priyanka consults her wristwatch. “Anyway, it is getting very late. Steven, would you like to stay for the night?”

Connie looks expectantly at Steven and takes his hand.

Steven gives Connies hand a squeeze. “No thanks, actually. I better be home when the Gems come back.”

“Aww~” Connie coos.

“Sorry,” Steven mutters. “Another time, perhaps.”

Priyanka stands. “Well, young lady; kiss your boyfriend good night. You are going straight to bed as soon as he is out of the door.”

* * *

The beach house is silent, dark, empty and rather chilly. Lion has chosen to take its usual spot underneath the deck, and Steven leans back against the screen door. It’s about time to replace it with the solid counterpart.

Steven rolls his shoulders and heads for the bathroom. A few too many things has happened in the last two days for him to process — Connie might be considering sleeping for a week, but Steven would like to cloister himself somewhere remote for two.

It is startling to realize one day that one’s parents share a love that one can never take part in; Steven could very well have gone his whole life never experiencing it.

 _Pearl and Amethyst,_ he thinks. And that train of thought doesn’t get much further.

His thoughts drift to Connie as he brushes his teeth, and that is perhaps the best solace for this feeling of hollowness — having a romance of your own.

Exhaustion soon overcomes his contemplative mood, and Steven heads up to the loft, summoning and unsummoning his shield until he feels the strain in his Gem. Doing this every night has gotten him up to conjuring five shields in a day before reaching his limit.

He doesn’t bother putting on his pajamas, opting to sleep in his jeans and pink t-shirt again, while promising himself solemnly that it isn’t becoming a habit.

* * *

“It suits you,” Priyanka says to Connie.

Connie looks up from brushing her teeth, while a Clonnie brushes her hair. “What?”

“The bracelet,” she replies and gestures.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“I’ve been thinking —” Priyanka pauses “— and I guess I am just tired enough to bring this up, but Steven really ought to see a therapist too.”

Connie gives it a moment’s thought, and yawns. “Elaborate?”

“He is in a unique situation, and sees a lot of… Combat. Who knows what kind of horrific things he has witnessed — well-adjusted though he may seem.”

Connie spits. “Less than you think, but I see your point. I’ll bring it up with him and see what he things.”

Priyanka nods. “If you do that, I’ll broach the subject with Greg and the Gems. Your father and I made a list of candidates — originally for you — but there’s no reason not to share it.

“And while on the topic,” Priyanka says. “I’ve booked you a session next week. Wednesday afternoon—”

“Yes mother,” Connie interjects, rinsing her toothbrush, “see if I like them, and if not we’ll find a new one, having chemistry with your therapist is important, and so on.”

Priyanka chuckles. “Don’t sass me, young lady.”

Connie smiles mischievously and fills a plastic cup with water, sips, gargles, and spits.

“Your father is coming home in twenty minutes, I am going to stay up and wait for him,” Priyanka says and kisses Connie on the forehead, then does the same to Clonnie. “Sleep well, dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the last one. Expect a new chapter probably sometime next week.


	89. Real Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's going to happen now, is that I am going to post a number of slice-of-life things, before working on the Peridot arc.
> 
> In essence, you will now get to witness just how much everyone has grown.
> 
> (This is like... The fifth time I'm postponing it, I'm so sorry. I promise it's gonna be amazing.)

It is the kind of day where the noon sun shining bright, high in the sky, makes the difference between too cold and barely comfortable. It is the kind of day where one avoids shade, the kind of day where people stand around like meerkats.

Steven feels the cold sand beneath his bare feet, and the slight breeze through his judogi would give him chills if he was actually paying attention.

He isn’t. The only thing in his mind is Amethyst standing opposite of him in a similar outfit — black judogi to match his pink, and her massive weave tied in a ponytail.

“Attack, Steven,” Amethyst says.

Steven takes a combat stance and tentatively begins closing the distance. Amethyst nonchalantly mirrors his movements in a casual walk.

“Very well,” she says. “Defend yourself, then.”

With a light kickoff Amethyst soars forward. Steven, unintimidated, charges to counter, and swings for a grapple. Amethyst somehow makes contact with the sand and manages to duck and weave out of his grip.

Steven wastes no time, crouching into a leg sweep which Amethyst nimbly jumps over. He then uses his coiled leg to leap into an explosive tackle towards her while she is still in the air.

Amethyst, to her credit turns his off-balance assault into a textbook throw — one hand grips each side of Steven’s collar, and while her feet make contact with the sand she forgoes landing for collapsing into a backwards roll, putting a foot on Steven’s pelvis and kicking him quite a ways into the air.

Steven, to his credit, immediately controls his tumble, twists, and lands on his feet as surely as a cat.

Having judged the lay of the land, the two rush headlong at each other, and clash in a standing grapple.

* * *

Steven and Amethyst are an impressively even match to the untrained eye.

Anyone with a trained eye can easily tell Amethyst is playing with Steven, deliberately matching his pace and skill.

“Why doesn’t Amethyst use shapeshifting?” Connie asks Pearl, as they spectate outside the rope ring.

“That would never work,” Pearl replies. “Too risky.”

“How so?” Connie asks.

Pearl hesitates. “I… That’s… Huh. This is exasperating.”

“What is?” Connie asks.

“I mean,” Pearl says. “It’s obvious that shapeshifting in battle is a good way to get in trouble, but… But I can’t— It’s like, why is two plus two equal to four?”

“… I don’t see it,” Connie says. “She shapeshifted when she wrestled Garnet, didn’t she?”

“Yes, but that was to her Purple Puma form which I happen to know is quite elaborate. Garnet did some reinforcement of her body, but no overt shapeshifting,” Pearl grins. “Connie, my pupil why do you ask such infuriatingly hard-to-answer questions?”

Connie shrugs.

Pearl clears her throat. “Amethyst!” she calls. “Let’s even the odds a little, why don’t you grow a second set of arms?”

“What!?” Amethyst yells from the ring. Steven has her on the ground in an arm lock — his legs across her chest, holding her arm to his chest with both his hands, trying his very best to dislocate her shoulder — but it doesn’t seem to bother her much.

“Shapeshift! Even the odds!” Pearl calls out again.

“… Sure!” Amethyst yells, and her sides glow, sprouting extra arms. Immediately, she uses on of them to jab a finger into the soft part of Steven’s elbow.

* * *

The two roll apart up to standing. “What the— Amethyst that’s cheating!” Steven says.

“Eh, if anything it’s a handicap,” Amethyst says, examining her new appendages.

“Wh—” Steven says. “…. Yeah, yeah you’re… Right? Huh…. But that still doesn’t mean it’s not cheating!”

“Eh,” she says, “this is training Ste-man! Adapt!” Then she charges at him once more.

Amethyst comes at him with a four-handed grapple, and Steven counters it with a shove to her center of mass, then goes for both of her right wrists…

* * *

“Huh,” Connie says, when the fight turns in Steven’s favor.

It’s hard for her to pin down what causes this, but even through four arms provide more options for escaping grapples, and more hands to grapple with, it seems to work to Amethyst’s detriment.

Steven exploits her shift in center of gravity, and the extra arms provide new opportunities for grapples that didn’t exist previously.

“See?” Pearl says.

“Yeah. Let me just try something…”

Connie flicks her wrist and manifests two unarmed, poofable Clonnies.

“Wait!” Pearl says, and starts giggling.

The two Clonnies disregard her and promptly run into the fray.

“Aww, what?!” Amethyst yells, and starts laughing. “That’s cheating, Connie!”

“It’s training! Adapt!” Steven yells, laughing.

* * *

Two Clonnies are not worth much — the girls rush at Amethyst, who trips them both with relative ease. This, however, opens Amethyst to yet another grapple from Steven.

He shoves her off-balance, and with great leverage twists her lower right arm, forcing her into a somersault to avoid dislocating the joint. She lands on her back in the sand with a _thump,_ then grabs and twists Steven’s wrist with her upper right hand, making him lose his grip.

* * *

“How did _you_ know that Amethyst would take it in stride?” Pearl asks smugly.

Connie shrugs. “It just felt like the thing to do, you know? It fit the tune.” She taps the circlet.

“… Huh. That’s interesting,” Pearl says.

“What is?” Connie asks.

“The circlet responding to social situations,” Pearl explains. “It is not outside the realm of possibility, but still seems unusual. I ought to go over the notes for those things some time. Perhaps that could be our next project?”

“Sign me up!” Connie says with a smile. “We also gotta tweak the bracelet sometime. I have a few ideas.”

“I’m sure you do.”

* * *

“OK, this is ridiculous,” Amethyst wheezes, partly from laughter, partly from the choke hold one of the Clonnies has gotten her into, putting her face down in the sand. Steven has her in a leg lock, and the remaining Clonnie is kneeling on one of her elbows. “No more little miss chew toy for you three!”

With superhuman finesse and no small amount of strength, Amethyst manages to pull her disabled arm free, pushing the Clonnie kneeling on it off-balance in the process. She pushes her torso up with her lower arms — despite the pain such an action would cause her due to the leg lock. Then with her two free arms, she takes Clonnie’s arm around her neck, and jams a thumb into the tender part of the elbow with bone-crushing pressure.

Clonnie yelps — muted sense of pain or not, that hurts — and her grip falters enough for Amethyst to force herself free. From the almost impossible position, Amethyst then manages an overhead throw, relieving her of all obstructions, save for Steven’s control of her legs.

With the added leverage of four arms, she twists her hips and throws Steven off, and does a kip-up to standing.

“I’d say you guys win, but…” Amethyst says. “You’re the ones lying in the sand, so…”

Pearl whistles from the sidelines. “Marvelous hat-trick, Amethyst!” she hollers.

Amethyst offers a hand to Steven and both of the Clonnies, brushing off her clothes with her last free hand. “Good game, though.”

“Good game,” Steven says and takes her hand.


	90. This is the Chapter with a Monster Battle, Girls

A fist the size of a small van impacts a shipping container a little ways off from Steven and Connie’s hiding place. The sound is deafening. From under the monstrous appendage, Pearl weaves away and lunges into the fray.

“Amethyst! Distract it!” She yells from out of sight.

The sound of another shipping container getting buckled like a soda can resounds through the abandoned shipping dock.

“We need to move,” Steven says. The pink disk of his shield hovers a few inches away from his right arm.

“Roger,” Connie says. She carries Rose’s sword by a handle securely bound to the scabbard — still waiting for an opportunity to strike with it.

She wiggles her wrist, then manifests a small squad of fresh Clonnies — armed with double revolvers — who all coil up like Olympic sprinters. Steven resizes his shield to be large enough to cover him and Connie both.

The container they are using for cover gets bumped a foot towards them, sliding across the concrete pavement with a screech.

Steven and Connie run out of cover in one direction while the Clonnies sprint in the other, out into the open.

And in good time too — Steven, Connie and all save one Clonnie make it clear of the container before another strike sends it skidding past where they were sitting. The Clonnies open fire at the monster as soon as they can, and Steven and Connie run for the next container, Connie sending off more gun-toting Clonnies as they run.

The adversary they are facing is an intimidating one. A body core radiating twelve long, fat tentacles like a deranged starfish, reaching perhaps forty feet across. Each arm ends in a massive hand, and the length of each of these are covered not in spikes but in additional, smaller tentacles ending in hands.

Around the base of each of the large arms sits a ring of menacing eyes. The body core itself houses on one side a massive, sharp beak, which when not trying to snip one of the Gems in half, sounds a horrible animalistic roar.

Despite the best efforts of the decoys, the Starfish attacks Steven and Connie. It lashes out with a punch that could sunder a tank, and hits the immovable barrier of Steven’s shield. The concrete below them crack, as the invisible workings of the shield distribute the forces involved.

Connie barely flinches and uses the opportunity to shoot out a crowd of Clonnies from under the shield, all armed with swords. They lunge into the arm, slashing at the smaller appendages and are quickly grappled and ripped apart.

The Starfish pulls its fist back a fraction, then grabs the shield, its fingertips wrapping around the edge. Steven counters with a force bubble, which he quickly grows into bursting, robbing the monster of its grip and pushing its hand back.

Undeterred, the giant palm once again slams into the face of the shield, and the fingertips wrap around the edge. Before it has a chance to try to rip the shield away, Connie unsheathed the sword and lands a cut in one fluid motion. The razor-sharp edge cleanly severs a fingertip, and the ever-present roar surges in intensity.

In rage — or perhaps cold calculation — the monster responds by attacking with two additional arms, trying to squish them in a clap, like one would a fly.

Steven curves the shield further to protect them, almost turning it into a bell-shape. Smartly, he angles it, and upon impact, the little-finger of one of the enormous hands poke under the edge of the shield. Connie doesn’t hesitant and neatly bisects it lengthwise for maximum damage.

The wounds smoke, and bleed something resembling tar.

With three appendages occupied fighting Steven and Connie, and three to keep itself up, the Gems easily sidestep any defense the remaining six arms can provide. Pearl manages to get in close and almost severs an arm at the base. Amethyst uses the lessened opposition to gleefully rake dozens of smaller arms off with each whiplash.

As the monster adjusts its strategy to deal with the new onslaught from the two Gems, Garnet sees her opening and darts in below it. From beneath it she abandons all restraint and unleashes an uppercut that would punt lesser creatures into the stratosphere.

What grip the Starfish had with three hands to the ground — even digging its fingertips into the concrete — gives way, and it rockets upward, arms spread out in an attempt to aerobrake.

It even still holds onto half of a shipping container with one hand.

Amethyst and Pearl share a look and a nod, and let their weapons disperse. Pearl takes Amethyst’s outstretched hand, and spins her once, then lets herself dip in Amethyst’s arms.

They dissolve into light, which then coalesces into Opal. Opal looks up at the monster now nearing the peak of its ballistic arc, still screeching.

The Starfish pulls its arms together under it, forming an aerodynamic cone-shape. Opal manifests her bow wholesale and nonchalantly pulls the bowstring, letting a huge energy arrow form. She aims high, and lets the blue-blazing bolt fly.

High above, the monster twists, and flings the torn wreckage of the shipping container out to sea with incredible force — so hard in fact, that the reaction pushes it out of the trajectory of Opal’s arrow.

The dramatic display of Newton’s third law is for naught. Opal flicks one of her draw hands, and an unseen mechanism causes the arrow to change course in mid air. It tears a hole clean through the core body of the monster.

Not to be outdone — or perhaps to be sure — Opal puts another two bolts through the corpus of the monster before it lands. With no way to dodge, Opal has no trouble landing both shots where she intends to.

It smashes down in the roof of a warehouse and Garnet and Opal leap towards the building in question, with another energy bolt nocked on Opal’s bow and lighting crackling over Garnet’s form.

The monster poofs before they land on the roof, whipping up a massive cloud of dust.

* * *

Opal and Garnet stand out on the end of a pier, discussing who knows what. Steven and Connie sit on the edge of a shipping container, three layers up, overlooking the collateral damage of the fight. Steven hands Connie a juice box.

Upwards of two dozen containers — old and rusted as they may be — are buckled and dented, and a few are torn in half. The warehouse is fit for a bulldozer.

“Do you always have so much trouble when you fight Gem monsters?” Connie asks.

“That was a really strong monster,” Steven remarks. “… I think it’s getting worse. They are getting stronger.”

“Well,” Connie says and kicks her heels against the empty container below them. It makes a sound like a broken gong. “It’s a good thing Amethyst and Pearl can fuse when things get rough… I’m not much help.”

“Don’t say that,” Steven says. “We distracted it, and that’s important too — without us, Garnet couldn’t have punched it into the sky.”

Connie nods. “I suppose. Still, I’d like to be able to help more.” She picks up Rose’s sword in its scabbard and looks at it. “This thing is really sharp.”

“Yeah?” Steven asks.

Connie gets up and draws the pink blade. Then, without any effort, she sinks it into the steel of the container roof. It passes through the metal like a sharpened butcher’s knife through tender meat.

“Yeah, OK,” Steven says. “That’s pretty sharp.”

Connie snickers. “I ought to get one of those ‘handle with care’ stickers from the post office and slap it on.”

Steven giggles.

* * *

Opal and Garnet return to find Steven and Connie meticulously slicing up the broken remains of a shipping container. Connie saws through the metal, while Steven tears it away. They have already created a small pile of narrow metal strips.

“What are you two troublemakers up to?” Garnet asks.

Steven and Connie both look up and blush.

“Oh, uh…” Connie says. “Testing Rose’s sword?”

Opal giggles.

“Anyway,” Garnet says and adjusts her visor. “Opal and I were discussing the creature. It obviously came from the ocean, and we think we know why.”

“Also why there’s been so many more monsters lately,” Opal adds. “We think Malachite is stirring up some trouble on the sea floor, wherever she is. It stands to reason that there would be corrupted Gems hiding in the ocean.”

Steven nods solemnly.

“Um,” Connie says. “Do we have a plan to get Malachite?”

“Not really,” Steven says.

“We should probably start brainstorming that, then,” Connie says.

“We’ll do it on the way back to the warp pad,” Garnet says and points towards the forested hills inland. It’s a bit of a hike.

Steven looks around the trashed docks. “Um, should we clean this up?”

“Nope. It’s abandoned anyway,” Garnet says. “And no one will tell a soul.”

* * *

They make their way through the jungle — Steven and Garnet on foot, Opal carrying Connie on her shoulder.

“I need a jetpack or something,” Connie mutters.

Opal nods. “Hm… There are some issues— I’ll mull it over.”

“Opal, a question,” Connie says.

“Yes?”

“How come you can redirect your arrows? If I understand it right, couldn’t someone hijack your control and use it against you?”

Opal looks at Connie. “You are really getting a hang of how magic works, little Maheswaran. Yes, if it was so that my arrows were controlled by anything remote…”

“They aren’t?” Connie asks.

Demonstrating, Opal puts two hands together, and then pulls them apart. At first it seems as if there is nothing between them, then a subtle purple glint — reflected sunlight — gives away the imperceptibly thin threads.

“I attach a thin thread to the arrows. When I pull it, it snaps, and the arrow does… A thing.”

Connie raises an eyebrow. “… A thing?”

Opal chuckles. “Explode. Change course. Split. Disappear. I can also set them on time-release.”

Connie’s eyes widen.

Opal smiles a confident smile. “Yeah— I’m powerful, all right. I suppose I should thank you for making me— us— more… _Available._ It is a rush and a delight to be able to help out on missions like this.”

Connie looks down at her bracelet. “Yeah. And… Thanks for this one,” she says and holds out the wrist it adorns. “I never really did get to thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again. A heads up: I have several chapters more or less ready, but again I am facing some difficulties with the tech-heavy scenes, which will delay 91 for some time.


	91. Smoke Machines & Funhouse Mirrors

Outside in the afternoon chill, Garnet is putting Steven through a grueling sparring session.

Inside, Connie, Amethyst and Pearl are gathered around the portable Composer table. They ended sword training early to this end, and the bracelet is hooked up to eleven translucent wires placed by Pearl meticulously and after some deliberation.

“So, I had this idea,” Connie says. “And like, I could say a lot of stuff, but I guess it is easier just to show it.”

“Yes?” Pearl says.

Demonstratively Connie does a one-handed double finger snap. “… And then a weapon appears.”

Pearl nods. “So, in other words you want to be able to activate the weapon-creation in a personal manner. I suppose that is an obvious avenue of utility we missed in the initial design.”

“Always armed and ready for combat, huh?” Amethyst says and nods approvingly. “We can do that,” she says, then looks at Pearl. “Right?”

“Hah, easily. I’ll do it right now,” Pearl responds.

She calls up a number of hologram screens and graphics — one of them a hand. “Do it again,” she says.

Connie repeats the gesture: a finger snap with the ring finger, followed in one motion by a regular middle finger one.

The hologram hand replays the action, and Pearl fiddles with a dial and a slider, making it run through the motion in reverse.

“What exactly is it you are doing now?” Connie asks, following Pearl’s actions closely.

Pearl glances over at Connie. “I’m… Generalizing, I suppose — capturing the ‘essence’ of the gesture so the bracelet can account for natural variations in your movements.

“It’s quite an ingenious system, you see: we Gems can replicate movements with near perfect fidelity, but I for one would have missed the implications of the fact that humans can’t, if I were to design such a thing.”

Connie nods. “But Opal could?”

Pearl looks at Amethyst and smiles.

“What? C’mon,” Amethyst says. “You’re the tech wiz, I’m just… Me.”

Pearl giggles. “Yes you are, and that is just what we need.”

Amethyst blushes. “Aa~nyway, you done?”

Pearl taps away at a holographic panel for a moment, then nods.

“Give it a whirl, Connie!” Amethyst says.

Connie snaps her fingers and for a brief instant nothing happens; then with nary a sound a copy of the training sabre pops into being a few inches from her knuckles and clatters to the floor.

“For safety reasons, you’ll have to snatch it out of the air,” Pearl explains. “It would be bad if it materialized _inside_ your fingers… Maybe. Truthfully I don’t know exactly what would happen. Also, it is way easier to position it if it doesn’t have to fit in your palm.”

Connie dismisses the sword on the floor and tries again. The blade materializes and this time she only _almost_ fumbles it.

“Yeah, you’ll have that down in no time,” Amethyst says.

“I hope so. I’d hate to fumble it in a pinch,” Connie remarks and dismisses the saber once more. “Anyway, I have another thing.”

“Shoot,” Amethyst says.

Connie scratches her head. “So, it might be entirely wrong, but Clonnie’s body is more like a Gem than a human, right? The poofing variant, I mean.”

Amethyst cocks her head. “Well, yeah, not really, but…”

“It’s complicated. If anything I’d classify it as a third thing. My training holograms are analogous,” Pearl says.

“And those ‘us’-knockoffs Lapis made,” Amethyst adds.

Connie nods. “Already, there’s the physical strength. I tested it with my father’s barbell set, and Clonnie can lift a little less than twice as much as me; and not to brag, but I can lift a ‘prodigious’ — according to my father — 90 pounds.”

“Hardcore!” Amethyst interjects.

“So— I mean, what else can we do?” Connie asks.

Pearl cocks her head. “A lot of things, ostensibly. Do you have anything specific in mind?”

“Well, kind of,” Connie says. “I haven’t used the outfit change _at all_. I think we should get rid of it, _if_ it is possible to make winter clothes and armor obsolete.”

Pearl nods. “Already armor is unnecessary in a way, seeing as the whole concept is one of dispensability. And…” She pages through a selection of holograms. “They are also far more resilient from the get-go.”

Connie nods. “Exactly what I mean. So, we should get rid of the clothing selection. If I understand it right, that would free up more of those memory disks to contain other stuff.”

“Sure would. I can tell where you’re going with it,” Amethyst says and smirks. “You want a bigger arsenal. We could fit a whole toolbox in there for you.”

“Yeah, well, I was thinking it would also free up some resources to add additional Clonnie variants,” Connie says. “Provided, of course, we can find anything worth keeping.”

Amethyst nods. “P, do you think we’re gonna need Opal and the big one for that?”

“Possibly,” Pearl replies. “We might need to make a new bracelet, even.”

Connie looks down at the bundle of wires almost obscuring the green metal. “You are allowed to open this one up and fiddle with it, if that makes it easier. It’s only gonna take a few hours anyway, right?”

Amethyst looks at Pearl, and Pearl at Amethyst. There’s a moment of stunned silence. “Could that work?” Amethyst asks.

“I suppose…” Pearl says. “Humans seem to make it work. It would simplify a lot of things.”

Amethyst nods. “Connie,” she says, “you gotta keep these great ideas coming, girl.”

Connie smiles. “It doesn’t need to be right now, let’s just… Let’s just jam a little, try to figure out what’s good enough to warrant a variant.”

Pearl nods. “Let’s get to it then. Connie, if you would?” she says and gestures to the bracelet.

Connie takes a snapshot and Pearl gestures — bringing about an ever-so-slightly translucent Clonnie standing atop the table.

“So, what do you have in mind?” Pearl asks.

“I don’t know—” Clonnie says. She looks around, and her eyes come to rest on the crystal block under her feet.

“Is anything the matter?” Pearl asks.

Tentatively Clonnie reaches out beyond the table, encountering an invisible barrier — not so much a physical obstacle, as her hand just disappearing. Disintegrated. A fraction of a second later, Clonnie destabilizes.

Connie wiggles her wrist, taking another snapshot, and Pearl reinstates a new Clonnie.

“… Let’s not try that again,” Clonnie says.

“I’ll expand the stage,” Pearl says. A holographic disc expands outwards from the composer’s table top. “This should give you a little more elbow room. So, what should we do first?”

“Well, the elephant in the room is that I don’t have a circlet,” Clonnie says.

“Yeah, that will be more challenging,” Pearl says. “I do have some ideas, but I am not sure we have the hardware, however…” she trails off, rubbing her chin.

“I have an idea,” Amethyst says. Connie, Clonnie and Pearl all look at her.

“What?” she says. “I’m a— A _master_ shapeshifter, I spend all _day_ thinking about body shapes and stuff.”

“… That actually makes a lot of sense,” Connie says.

Pearl smiles. “Do continue, Amethyst.”

Clonnie gives the purple Gem a thumbs-up.

“Anyway,” Amethyst says and looks at Clonnie. “Let’s make you bigger, first. Pearl?”

Pearl nods and goes to work, summoning a plethora of interactive holograms.

“Would being bigger increase my combat efficiency?” Clonnie asks.

Amethyst snorts. Pearl looks up.

Connie and Clonnie both furrow their brows at her reaction. Connie crosses her arms. “Is something funny, Amethyst?” she asks.

“Sorry, sorry,” Amethyst says. “It’s just— you’re not really a fighter, Connie; and you shouldn’t really aspire to be one, in my opinion.”

Connie glares at Amethyst. “Oh _yeah?_ So all this sword training and magitech is just for naught, in your opinion?”

“Jerk,” Clonnie mutters.

Amethyst shakes her head and holds up a hand. “Hold up, girls. I didn’t mean it like that. Fact is: me, Garnet, and Pearl are literally a thousand years ahead of you and Steven when it comes to combat training. And, we’re _Gems_ — made of light and magic, and capable of ruining anyone’s day to boot. Dig?”

Connie nods, still glaring…

“ _You_ don’t _need_ to be a fighter. Trying to get on our level is, well…” Amethyst sighs. “Look at it this way: we” — she gestures to herself and Pearl — “are the mid-range specialists. Garnet is the close-range fighter. Steven is our support — healing, protection. We have a division of tactical roles.”

“And what does that make me?” Clonnie asks.

“Reconnaissance,” Amethyst says. “Spies, scouts, decoys. Fighting should be a last resort for you — I mean, it’s still important you know how to defend yourself, but if you go rushing into battle, you’ll end up, well… Dead. Sorry if I came off as condescending.”

Connie and Clonnie exchange looks. “Makes sense to me,” Clonnie says.

Connie nods. “Apology accepted,” she says.

Amethyst smiles. “Anyway, how are things looking?” she asks Pearl.

“They would be looking a lot better if you could refrain from getting in a fight while I work,” Pearl replies, turning back to the holographic interfaces. “I need to unclutter some of the processes before I can get it to cleanly…” Her hands dance across sliders and keys, and adjusting a gimbal-looking construct. A small cluster of networked nodes spring into being, and Pearl cuts a few connections with her fingers.

“Yeah?” Connie asks.

“Sorry,” Pearl says. “Shapeshifting itself is a very complex and multifaceted discipline. The best we are going to manage is going to be a direct scale-up of everything.”

Pearl runs a finger across a slider and Clonnie gains three feet of height.

“Whoa,” she says and wobbles — both from her feet being subjectively pushed towards each other by the friction, and also from just the vertigo. She continues growing, and loses her balance around reaching a height of ten feet.

The strangeness really asserts itself as she stumbles and falls — slowly, from sheer air resistance. She lands, and giggles in a voice that is almost an octave lower.

“That didn’t hurt at all,” she says. Her voice is a booming bass, even through the slight muffling the composer table provides. “It feels like I weigh almost nothing! And— my vision is a little blurry.”

“That would be from the eyes scaling up,” Amethyst says. “And you still weigh the same, even if you’re huge. Imagine being normal sized but weighing only half what you usually do; not to mention air resistance — Pearl, there’s air in the playpen, right?”

Pearl nods.

“You know a lot about this, Amethyst,” Connie says.

Amethyst shrugs. “Eh, I was fused with this wonderful nerd —” she gestures to Pearl, who blushes “— when we made your bracelet. I picked up a few things. Besides, I’ve regenerated a lot, and as previously established, I’m the shapeshifting master. And Rose taught me a bunch of stuff to further that.”

Pearl rubs her chin in thought. “Connie, could you take another snapshot?”

“Sure.”

Pearl instantiates another, newer Clonnie on the table. The larger one, still sitting, looks at her smaller sister. “Gosh, you’re tiny, up close.”

“Try picking her up,” Pearl says.

Giant Clonnie shifts into kneeling position, careful not to lose her balance. She lays a hand on the floor, palm up, and the smaller Clonnie steps onto it. Then, the giant offers her other hand for a hand-hold, and lifts the smaller one off the floor.

“As I thought,” Pearl says. “Perhaps this could be of some merit as transportation?”

The bigger one starts giggling — a strange, deep, guttural sound, owing to the elongated vocal chords. “We don’t need Opal to give us a lift now…” she says and smiles wide.

Pearl cocks her head.

Connie hides her face in her palms. “Don’t you dare,” she says.

“… We can _carry our own weight, now,_ ” giant Clonnie says puts smaller Clonnie on her shoulder, much like Opal tends to do with Connie.

Connie groans.

“This is really weird,” the small Clonnie says. “Your hair— it’s all coarse.”

Giant Clonnie giggles. “I’m twice as large, so of _coarse_ I have twice as luscious locks.”

Amethyst gives the duo a double thumbs up. “You’re a riot. Are y’all ready for my next crazy idea?”

“ _Yes!_ Please!” Connie says. “Before I make any more bad puns!”

Amethyst trots over to Pearl and whispers in her ear. Pearl giggles. “Certainly.” With a few gestures she calls up the requisite settings and runs a finger across the same slider she used to scale giant Clonnie up, only in the other direction.

Connie starts laughing.

“OK, this is bizarre,” says the formerly normal-sized Clonnie in a very squeaky voice, now all of one foot tall, standing on the palm of the giant.

“Here’s the dish, though,” Amethyst says. “Try jumping.”

The tiny Clonnie leaps off Giant’s palm and gains six feet of air, before reaching the peak of her trajectory. She lands without any problems. “Whoa.”

“Yeah, see, the problem with big girl,” Amethyst says, “is that she is _big_. That means if we should weight her down so it felt natural, she would have to be many times stronger — actually that’s not a half-bad idea. Pearl?”

“On it,” Pearl says. “It will make the energy consumption untenable, though.”

“But anyway,” Amethyst continues, “when you are that small, if we just channel the same amount of power through you as a regular sized Clonnie, you get hella powerful. Pearl, do we have something— wait, could you give her a regular-sized revolver?”

Pearl, in the middle of tuning a rather complicated set of sliders and monitoring several rapidly changing 3D visualizations spares a moment’s use of one hand to poke a single button without looking or even breaking stride.

The familiar revolver pops into being on the composer table. The small Clonnie jogs up to it, and picks up the comparatively, comically huge weapon. “What now?”

“Tear it apart.”

Tiny hands grip the cylinder pin, and a tiny foot steps on the handle for leverage. With a pull and a snapping sound, the pin comes out. She grins.

Clonnie swings the cylinder out, and nonchalantly bends the swing-arm back, misaligning the cylinder beyond any hope of ever fitting back into the weapon. She bends it forth again, then back again, repeating the process until it snaps under metal fatigue.

With another display of strength, she bends the barrel over one knee. Lastly she picks up the cylinder pin and crumbles it into a ball, throwing it out of the playpen into the invisible, disintegration barrier.

“Fear me!” she squeaks. “I am super strong!”

Amethyst giggles. “OK, but in all seriousness… You know how we can jump into the sky?”

Connie nods.

“That’s because we can… Change our… Mass? I guess, but keep our strength— the mechanics are a little complicated, and I only know how to _do_ it, not how it works,” Amethyst explains.

“It has to do with the distinction between gravitational and inertial mass, but I am not certain human physicists have ever gotten that far,” Pearl adds.

“Yeah, anyway— let’s try this out on a fresh Clonnie,” Amethyst says.

Pearl makes the two already in the playpen wink out. Connie provides an updated snapshot, replacing them with a new, comparatively ordinary Clonnie.

With a few commands, Pearl effects the requisite change.

“Whoa,” Clonnie says. Her first action upon feeling gravity lessen its tug on her, is of course to jump. This sends her headfirst into the invisible barrier above, poofing her.

“… Let’s try that again, but could you add some walls and a ceiling?” Connie asks and takes another snapshot.

Faint, translucent holograms spring up around the playpen, together with a new Clonnie.

“Whoops,” she says. “OK, I’m ready.” She pauses and a wolfish grin spreads across her face. “Please, Pearl. En _light_ en me.”

Connie groans.

Pearl runs a finger across the requisite controls, and with a very gentle kick-off, Clonnie floats neatly to the holographic ceiling, touches it with both hands to absorb the rest of her momentum, then floats back down to the floor again.

“How much do I weigh?” she asks.

“Nine pounds,” Pearl says. “About a tenth of what you usually do.”

“What’s it like?” Connie asks.

Clonnie takes a step forward — more of a skip, really — and almost stumbles. “Surreal.” She regains her balance and comes to rest. “Kind of relaxing actually,” she adds. “It kind of makes you want to be an astronaut.”

Connie nods. “This could be useful for like, exploration or something, right?”

“I’d imagine,” Clonnie says. “Speaking of, can I try weightlessness?” Clonnie asks.

Pearl is just about to configure it to allow Clonnie to experience the closest approximation of microgravity the underlying Gemtech allows, when Connie interrupts her: “Actually, can I try the controls?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Clonnie adds. “That would be awesome.”

Pearl looks at Amethyst. Amethyst shrugs. “She has the circlet, I don’t think anything would go _wrong_ wrong.”

“OK,” Pearl says. “I’ll guide you along.” She steps aside and Connie steps into the veritable cloud of little holographic widgets suspended in space.

Pearl claps twice, and the slider Connie is looking at sprouts a little name-tag. Surprised, her eyes flicker and comes to rest on a three dimensional height-map which comes to sport a little pop-up as well. “What—”

“It sees what you are looking at,” Pearl explains. “Then it offers a short description of the parameters.”

“Oh.” Connie reads the label: _extrapolatory junction knotting_ followed by six three dimensional, slowly rotating figures seemingly made of a single folded strand. “Well, it’s not much help.”

“You gotta let the _force_ guide you, Connie,” Amethyst says and giggles.

Connie and Clonnie both shoot Amethyst an uncomprehending look.

“Oh man, you haven’t watched Star Wars?” Amethyst says, surprised. “Anyway, you gotta _feel_ it. There’s no way you can actually hold half of all of this in your mind, so you gotta— you gotta let the circlet guide you.”

Connie nods and listens closely to the music from the circlet. The usual quartet has been replaced by something approaching the strings of an entire orchestra. The technical nuance in the instrumentation are far beyond anything Connie have ever heard — surpassing the ‘great composers’ by miles. And yet it is not as riveting and beautiful as the simpler motifs she experiences during combat (that’s Connie’s opinion, anyway.)

She reaches out and flicks a slider without even reading it’s tag, and Clonnie loses contact with the floor.

“Whoa,” she says. “Vertigo— OK, this is beyond freaky. Can— can I get a hand-hold or something? Maybe a sick-bag.”

“I don’t even think you _can_ throw up,” Amethyst says. “So don’t worry about it.”

Pearl starts re-ordering the holographic interfaces, putting them within Connie’s reach before Connie even knows what to reach for. With a few commands, guided and aided wordlessly by Pearl, Connie manages to put up a series of beams criss crossing the chamber, for Clonnie to grab.

Having steadied herself, Clonnie looks down at Pearl. “So, captain, my captain. What’s next?”

Connie undoes the complete weightlessness and leaves Clonnie at about half normal weight. She lets her eyes browse over the assortment of holograms as Pearl keys the last settings into the now rather streamlined holographic setup. (To be fair, it’s comparable to an infant’s playground. All the sharp corners have been sanded, all the dangerous things hidden, and everything else is metaphorically brightly colored and easily manipulable.)

Connie brushes a number of widgets aside and picks a specific one. The labels are incomprehensible and the interaction nodes are alien to say the least, like deformable putty strung between levers. She hands it to Pearl, who nods approvingly.

“This is a very fine choice,” Pearl says. “Let me boil it down for you: there was a number of systems in Clonnie I had made dependent on the physical size; and I needed to adjust them — or move them out of the way if you would — in order to get mostly problem-free scaling. This is one of them. Do you know what it does?”

Connie shakes her head. “It just caught my eye.”

With nary a gesture from Pearl the hologram explodes into a cloud of smaller widgets, and she plucks some of them out of the air, dismissing others. From her Gem she projects a new holographic construct — a flat screen — links it to the bits and pieces accordingly and surrenders it for the Composer’s systems to manage. “There, this should be fun.”

Connie looks at the screen. It has about sixty different sliders. “Yeah, thanks.” She reaches out and runs her fingers across two of them at once, then pushes a small button labeled ‘commit.’

The effect is immediate. Clonnie blurs, and zips about like a choppy animation. From the speaker comes bursts of high-pitched gibbering. Connie, Amethyst and Pearl stare at the strange spectacle for a second — then Clonnie comes to rest sitting in the center of the playpen.

“Whoa, yo, turn it off!” Amethyst says.

Quickly, Connie puts the sliders back in their normal range and pushes commit.

Amethyst hops over to Clonnie and lands halfway through the translucent floor. “Hey— hey! Clonnie? Are you OK?”

Clonnie looks up, wide eyed in fear. “Amethyst?”

“How long was that?”

Clonnie shakes her head. “I don’t know, maybe five minutes.”

“What—” Connie begins.

“You scared her, that’s all,” Amethyst says. “Give some forewarning next time.” She turns back to Clonnie. “Are you OK?”

“Cold,” she says and shivers. “Colder than anything I have ever felt. I was really light. It was dark.”

“Yeah, that’s a side effect,” Amethyst says. “Sped up like that you probably felt something a little south of where air condenses. Also it would have dampened light and gravity in a similar fashion. Are you gonna be OK?”

Clonnie shakes her head. “I’d rather just—” And then she winks out.

Connie stands there, wide eyed, with a finger on the kill-switch. She wiggles her wrist and instantiates a new Clonnie.

“OK, that was scary,” Clonnie says. “But it has definite promise…”

Connie nods and starts keying in a new set of changes, but a scare-chord from the circlet prompts her to check her phone. “Oh shoot. It’s really late.” She looks up just as Garnet comes in, carrying an exhausted Steven.

Connie’s eyes go wide. “Um— is he in any shape to get me home? I have a family dinner—” She holds out the bracelet and Pearl disconnects the cables.

“He’s asleep,” Garnet says.

Connie looks from Garnet to Pearl. “Uh… I’d rather not have to call my mother and say I’m stranded in Beach City.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Pearl says. She gets up and dances over to Amethyst.

“Wh—?” Amethyst begins. Pearl silences her with a finger.

“Do you want to help me get Connie home?” Pearl says and winks.

Amethyst blushes. “Yes.”

Connie walks up to Garnet. Garnet kneels down, and Connie kisses Steven’s forehead. “Tell him I had to run, OK?”

Garnet nods. “Say hi to your parents from us.”


	92. Home is Where the Hearth is

Winter means rainstorms, temperatures struggling to get above fifty, dropping to freezing in the nights, and a fire in the hearth. Mahogany is an excellent firewood with a lovely fragrance.

Steven and Connie sit on the floor in front of the fireplace, with marshmallows, graham crackers, and bar chocolate. And to complete the idyllic atmosphere, the Gems are home from one of their now-frequent monster hunts.

Amethyst is napping with her head on Pearl’s lap, Pearl is reading and stroking Amethyst’s hair, and Garnet is doing whatever it is she does, stoically staring into the air — stoic save for a small, content smile.

Outside the beach house, high in the evening sky, the first hailstorm of the winter season looms overhead, hesitating to pelt New England. The forecast promises hailstones the size of marbles.

“Remember last year when there was a snow storm?” Connie says, expertly rotating a marshmallow on a skewer, holding it near the embers at the bottom of the fire.

“Yeah, and I wanted to turn it into a sleepover,” Steven says and turns away from the fire. “Garnet, remember that?”

“Yup,” Garnet says from the sofa. “A little future vision and that all cleared up.” Steven turns back to the fire, and Connie rests her head on his shoulder, inspecting her marshmallow and deeming it ready to eat. “Well,” she says. “There’s nothing stopping us from having a sleepover tonight.”

“Nope,” Steven says, and kisses her on the forehead, handing her the bowl crackers and chocolate pieces.

They sit like that, while Connie eats her s’more and Steven carefully roasts a marshmallow for himself.

“I’m starting therapy,” Connie says. “Well, I already started, but the first session ended badly. The guy freaked out when I told him about magic.”

“Really?” Steven asks, with concern. “How did you handle it?”

“She called me,” Garnet says. “I did the FBI-agent thing.”

Pearl looks up. “I didn’t hear about this?”

Garnet adjusts her visor. “We handled it.” Connie nods in assent.

Pearl shrugs and continues reading.

“Actually, Pearl,” Connie says. “Why would someone freak out? Doesn’t the whole secrecy thing prevent that?”

Pearl rubs her chin. “Well, It’s been a while since I read the documents, but if I recall correctly a few people are selected to discredit the ideas of magic in the general.”

Steven and Connie share a look. “Ronaldo,” they say in unison.

“Possibly,” Pearl says.

“Anyway,” Connie says. “It’s gonna be all right, my mother has a list of therapists to go through until I find the right one.”

“Good idea,” Steven says, and deems his ’mallow roasted to perfection. Connie hands him the bowl back.

“My mother thought you should see a therapist too,” Connie says.

Steven looks at her in mild surprise. “Really? Why?”

“Well, you’re not like most people,” Connie says. “You go on dangerous missions and you have a lot to live up to — being a Crystal Gem and all.”

“I have you guys; I have you, Connie.”

“Still, Steven,” she says. “We are you friends. I am your girlfriend. We wanna be nice to you and love you—”

“— and a therapist doesn’t. Their job is to make me better,” Steven says. “I do have some issues to work through.”

Pearl has been listening in on the conversation and speaks up: “I agree with Connie, Steven. Perhaps it would help you with some of the problems we can’t help with.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Garnet adds.

Connie turns to look at Pearl. “I’ll tell my mother you’re on board.”

* * *

They go to bed at midnight, and the Gems retreat to the temple. The heat from the dying fire makes it bearable to make the trip from the bathroom to the warm haven of Steven’s comforter, and the ambiance is provided by the unending drum roll of hailstones on the roof.

“How did we manage to forget about Ronaldo?” Steven asks Connie.

She rolls over to face him. “I don’t know.”

“Let’s fix it tomorrow, yeah?” he says.

“Yeah.”

* * *

There’s a knock on the door to the lantern room, and Ronaldo takes his feet off the desktop and neatly puts down _Freakonomics_ in their stead, bookmarking it in the process.

He opens the door to find Steven and Connie, looking guilty.

There’s an almost deathly silence in the lighthouse as Steven presents Ronaldo with the rather well-made tin foil cap. It’s even Ronaldo’s size.

“You came here to mock me,” he states.

Connie and Steven exchange worried glances. “Um, no,” Connie says. “We _really_ didn’t.”

“Universe, Maheswaran,” Ronaldo says. “I have a great deal of respect for the two of you, so I apologize in advance if the following might seem like a harsh truth.

“The idea that the human brain needs shielding from electromagnetic frequencies is laughable. Mind control is virtually impossible — otherwise the military industrial complex would have capitalized on it when they researched such matters during the cold war. Secrets would have gotten out, yadda, yadda, yadda.

“A tin foil hat is very non-scientific, it is conspiracy-theory material. I put that behind me. Now if you don’t have anything else, I was in the middle of some reading.”

He begins to close the door and Steven puts a hand on the door, stopping it dead — the difference in strength is palpable to the trained eye. Ronaldo’s is not.

“Ronaldo, mind control is real,” Steven says. “You have been mind controlled in at least two ways we know of.”

Ronaldo’s eyes widen to the size of saucers.

“Remember the beach party?” Connie continues. “When Stevonnie convinced you that conspiracy theories were baloney?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Ronaldo says, and steps aside — almost unwittingly inviting the two inside.

Steven comes inside and Connie follows, continuing: “Didn’t you think it weird, that one person, over the course of one conversation convinced you to give up your entire worldview?”

Ronaldo’s eyes narrow, and he closes the door behind them. “Quite persuasive, that Stevonnie. What are you getting at?”

“We mind-whammied you, Ronaldo.” Steven says. “With magic super-charisma— I think.”

“We’re sorry,” Connie supplies.

Ronaldo nods solemnly. “That’s… Alarming. But not unwelcome. I have come to realize how much of an oaf I had made of myself— In fact I recently picked up a book about not being an oaf: it’s called _How to Win Friends and Influence People_ , have you heard of it?”

Connie and Steven shake their heads in unison.

“But that brings me to the _second_ mind control,” Steven says. “The Gems have a system that keeps humanity ignorant of Gem magic. And tin foil hats help against it.”

Ronaldo looks from Steven, to Connie, to the cap, then out the windows above, his expression growing more disconcerted by the second. He snatches the cap from Steven and puts it on, then rushes to his desk for his fedora to hold it in place.

He takes a few deliberate deep breaths, then turns to the two. “Why aren’t you wearing caps too?” he shrieks. “Steven, are you immune because of magic? Connie, please tell me that tiara is a shield! What does this mind control even do?!”

“I’m deliberately excepted,” Connie says. “There’s a list of people who are. Steven is immune, yes. As for the effect, it will probably take around five minutes before the tin foil hat takes effect, and even then it won’t be very noticeable. It’s not a very big effect.”

Ronaldo blushes with embarrassment. “… Oh. Well, my constant vigilance would have paid off if it had been a more dangerous sort of mind control.”

“It isn’t, don’t worry,” Steven says. “The way Pearl explained it to me, is that it mainly makes people want to keep things a secret.”

Ronaldo furrows his brows. “That’s… Actually a pretty obvious way of going about keeping magic a secret. Magic that makes people want to keep magic a secret. Huh.” He stands straighter. “Maheswaran, Universe. Thank you very much for bringing this to my attention… And am I correct in assuming it—”

“—Would be best to keep this a secret, yes,” Steven says.

Ronaldo nods sagely, then suddenly freezes.

“Are you OK, Ronaldo?” Connie asks.

“ _Holy crap, Steven you are a space alien — somebody needs to inform the president!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as of right now, the plan is to put out several small in-between chapters like this one, in order to get to a point where the Peridot Arc can happen.
> 
> You see, one of the things I have fucked up w.r.t. canon is time. Canonically, the Crewniverse employs expanded storytelling to a massive degree: from Mirror Gem to Onion Friend is a years time, and Onion Friend is sometime before June 25th (I think, according to the calendar on the fridge.) I missed that, so I have been putting Onion Gem (i.e. Week of Sardonyx some time in September, and a lot of other stuff. Basically, right now it is winter in Oyster...)
> 
> Then of course there is also all the stuff with Steven's age and such, and a number of inconsistencies between the historic recounts of the war and the stuff relayed by Stevonnie during the beach party arc. I apologize for that, I re-wrote the war history and neglected to update the beach party.
> 
> Anyway, I am gearing up for a massive proof-reading session with a lot of my confidantes. Whether this will be before the Peridot Arc or after, remains to be seen.
> 
> (Also please make "MHD keeps postponing Peridot Arc" a meme, guys.)


	93. Not Your Friend

Connie and Priyanka reach their destination in the apartment complex-turned-office building.

> _Jessica Hernandez M.D._  
>  —  
>  _Therapy and Counseling_

The plaque on the door reads.

“Nervous?” Priyanka asks.

“No,” Connie says. “… Maybe a little.”

Priyanka rings the doorbell, and Connie waits with bated breath.

The door opens, dispelling that unpleasant train of thought, at the sight of a kindly middle-aged woman — a stout Latina in a brightly colored long-sleeved dress.

“Dr. Maheswaran, I presume?” she says — Priyanka nods — “And you must be Connie. I am Dr. Hernandez, but please, call me Jessica.”

She holds out a hand towards Connie and they shake.

“Nice to meet you,” Connie says.

“I’ll come pick you up in ninety minutes, OK dear?” Priyanka says. Connie nods. Priyanka shakes Jessica’s hand, and kisses Connie on the forehead. Then she turns and leaves at a brisk pace.

“Would you like to come inside?” Jessica asks and steps aside, holding the door open.

Connie obligingly steps inside, into something resembling an apartment more than anything else — like, say, a medical examination room.

“Would you like something to drink, perhaps?” Jessica asks.

“Just water, please,” Connie replies, looking around. The room is painted in warm pastels, and bookcases cover the walls. They contain books and paraphernalia in equal quantities.

Books on psychology and classic works of literature make up the majority from what Connie can tell. Of all the various knick-knacks, especially prominent is a collection of phrenology busts.

Jessica returns with a tray — a teapot, two cups, a glass, and a pitcher of water. “I brought an extra cup, in case you change your mind. Have a seat?” she gestures to a sofa arrangement — leather sofas, well worn by seating who knows how many people.

Connie takes a seat, and Jessica puts the tray on the coffee table. “Now, while the tea brews, let me tell you a little about myself — I think if we are going to get any constructive therapy done, it’s better if we know a bit about one another, don’t you think?”

Connie nods.

“My name is Jessica, I’m forty-seven years old, and I have a medical degree in clinical psychology. I worked as a psychiatrist for about a decade, then changed careers for personal reasons, and now I am a therapist. I have a husband and two lovely sons — twins — a bit older than you.”

She leans forward and pours a cup of tea for herself. “Do help yourself,” she says and gestures to the pitcher. Connie reaches for it and pours herself a glass of water.

“My name is Connie, I’m thirteen years old. I’m in junior high, I like science and books.”

“What kind of books?” Jessica asks.

“Stories. Fantasy, mostly. I used to read all the time,” Connie says.

“That sounds wonderful. Well, Connie, it is very nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Connie sips her water.

“Now,” Jessica begins, picking up a notepad and pencil. “I don’t normally take clients of your age — I usually work with veterans, but your mother was quite insistent that my skills were applicable. Why do you think that is?”

Connie shifts in her seat. “I’ve been through some… Less pleasant things, recently.”

Jessica nods.

Connie remains quiet.

“Does it have to do with your family?” — Connie shakes her head — “School?” — another shake — “An accident you witnessed?”

“No,” Connie says. “Well, some girls pick on me at school, and my parents are kind of strict even though they are getting better.”

“That can be a serious matter, still,” Jessica says. “Do these things bother you?”

“Not really,” Connie says. “My parents are pretty reasonable, and I have bigger things to worry about than the popular girls picking on me.”

Jessica nods. “What bigger things?”

“This is going to sound weird,” Connie mutters and looks away.

Jessica chuckles. “Less so than you might think. I hear some _strange_ things.”

Connie takes a deep breath. “I’m a member of a group of magical guardians that protect the Earth.”

Jessica furrows her brow, then takes a note. “… Could you elaborate?”

“You probably just wrote something like ‘delusional’ there,” Connie says. “Hear me out. Please?”

Jessica nods.

“Once there was this powerful empress who came to Earth about nine thousand years ago. She and her followers initially wanted to use Earth’s ecology for their own purposes, but this empress took a liking to humans and decided not to.

“The aliens back home didn’t like this and they ended up fighting two horrific wars for Earth, ending the conflict some five thousand years ago. Only the empress and three of her loyal servants survived and have been walking the earth ever since.

“In the late eighties this rock musician captured the heart of the empress and they married and had a child. The empress gave up her physical form to pass her magical powers onto their son.

“That boy is named Steven Universe, he lives in Beach City. I met him a year and a half ago, when he saved my life from a falling boulder, trapping us in a force-bubble for the better part of an afternoon. We became fast friends, and finally started… Dating— three weeks ago.”

Jessica takes another note. “That sounds like an interesting fellow. Now, when you say ‘magic’ what do you mean by that?”

Connie holds up her arm, showing off the bracelet. She makes a double finger-snap, and a saber-duplicate manifests in her hand a moment later. “This.”

Jessica’s eyes go wide.

“Don’t freak out, please,” Connie says.

Jessica takes a deep breath. “Please put that away,” she says.

Connie dismisses the sabre with a gesture. “This bracelet is a magic item I was given to help me on missions.”

“… Does it have any other functions?”

Connie stands, flicks the switch on the bracelet, wiggles her wrist, and gestures, creating a Clonnie. Then they both sit down in the sofa opposite Jessica.

Jessica reaches for her cup, takes a sip, then shoots it an accusatory glare. “Excuse me for a moment,” she says and gets up, heading to the kitchen. She returns with a bottle of brandy, and a glass. She pours generously and takes a deep swig, then a deep breath.

“Are you OK?” Connie asks.

Jessica nods tentatively.

“My last therapist started screaming, so you are already doing pretty well,” Connie says.

“What am I looking at here?” Jessica asks.

“A magic clone,” Clonnie says. “I am a perfect duplicate of Connie. You can call me Clonnie.”

“Disposable clones,” Connie supplies. “For combat and menial labor.”

“I exist to serve Connie,” Clonnie says. “I am her, and she is me. The difference is that it doesn’t matter what happens to me, so long as Connie is around.”

Connie gestures, and turns Clonnie into mist.

Jessica pours herself another glass of liquor.

* * *

“Hmm,” Jessica says.

“What is it?” Connie asks.

“Well, your clones—”

“Clonnies,” Connie corrects. “Or just Clonnie.”

“—Clonnie doing self-destructive things.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m afraid that’s quite normal for kids like you.”

“… Kids like me?”

“Strict parents. I’ve seen a few dozen cases where young men and women moving out to live on their own, almost fall apart with the lack of externally enforced discipline; hence they decide to join the military.”

“… Oh.”

“So, to quell your worries, I think that when Clonnie realized she was free of this, and that any personal injury was of no matter; she decided to do those things.”

“Yeah, she said as much. You really think that’s normal?”

“Absolutely.”

* * *

“I think it was very brave of you.”

“Hm?”

“Challenging your teacher,” Jessica clarifies.

“Well, I was kind of… Buzzed, I guess. Not really in my right mind?”

“Still. It speaks of your developing independence. How does the incident make you feel when you think about it?”

Connie looks down and away in thought. “I still see it sometimes. It comes up. Pearl held her, you know? Like I guess she would hold me if I…”

Jessica nods.

“It scares me.”

Jessica nods again.

“Not so much that I might die, but… More what happens to everyone afterwards. They’ll miss me. Mourn me. My parents would be devastated, Steven too. Pearl too — I think I’m her first new friend in decades… I’d hate to see them have to deal with— with all that.”

“When you reach my age — or if you have a close brush with death — you get to realize just how real and imminent death is. I’m already having trouble doing some things I could do just five years ago.”

Connie looks at Jessica. “How do you live with it?”

“You always have. Death is always close by. You just have to see that it has always been that way — then you just go on as you always have.”

* * *

“Do you have trouble sleeping?”

“A bit.”

“Recurring nightmares?”

“… Yeah.”

“Outbursts of anger, panic attacks?”

“No.”

“Memory problems? Change of interests?”

“No?”

“Do you feel like you are on high alert all the time?”

“Not really— this thing here,” Connie taps the circlet, “gives me a danger-sense ability. It’ll alert me if anything is afoot.”

Jessica nods, impressed. “Do you find that you shy away from combat situations?”

Connie shakes her head. “When duty calls, duty calls.”

“Hm.”

“What is it?”

“You’ve been through a lot, Connie, but you have surprisingly few scars to show for it. I’ve seen a lot worse come out of a lot less — you are a very strong young woman.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

Jessica consults her wristwatch. “We have about thirty minutes left. Would you mind if I asked a few questions?”

“Not at all.”

“I’m curious— you say these four aliens have been on Earth for almost all of recorded history. How come I’ve never really heard of them? Perhaps you could give an example of some event where they took part?”

“Um…” Connie says.

* * *

Connie is in the middle of explaining — to the best of her ability — what happened during the Gem wars, when the door bell rings. It’s not a topic she is particularly strong with, and the interruption is welcome.

“That must be your mother,” Jessica says. “I must say it has been fascinating to meet you, Connie. Same time next week?”

“Sure,” Connie says.


	94. New Year's Feast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains copious food porn.

Solstice comes and goes, and New Year’s Eve draws near.

Steven wakes up to find Amethyst standing in the kitchen, two fingers pressed thoughtfully to her lips, eyes darting to and fro.

“Hey Amethyst,” he says coming down the stairs. “What are you up to?”

“We really need a better kitchen,” she says. “The fridge is like, way too small, the oven too…” She runs a hand across the counter. “ _Urgh._ Laminate on wood. Steel is a lot nicer.”

Steven rubs his eyes and opens the fridge. “Sure,” he mutters.

“Eh, I’ll have to manage.”

Steven looks at her, milk bottle in hand. “What now?”

“I’m gonna make a New year’s feast.”

Steven’s eyes widen.

* * *

Steven is barely done with breakfast and getting dressed for the day when Amethyst returns from a quick trip to town. She is wearing an enormous hiking backpack — brand new, and almost too big to fit through the door.

“What’s up?” Steven asks.

“Retail is complicated,” Amethyst says. “Money too. Does Greg really deal with this every day?”

Steven shrugs, and Amethyst starts unpacking her backpack. She rifles through the kitchen drawers and cupboards, throwing out chipped wooden spoons, the cheap set of knives, the plastic cutting boards, the plastic knives…

“What are you doing?” Steven asks. Amethyst doesn’t answer, but instead starts replacing the items — a new set of knives, bamboo cutting boards, new spoons, new cutlery, a slender pepper mill, a granite mortar, a hand blender…

“Better…” she says.

Then the turn comes to the cookware — out goes the cheap pots and pans, in comes non-stick-coated copper counterparts. The oven proof dishes go in the pile of discarded kitchen utensils too, replaced by glazed terracotta.

Finally, comes boxes of new dinner plates, soup bowls, silverware, drinking glasses, wine glasses, and champagne flutes. Steven’s mismatched sets of tableware get supplemented, rather than replaced — save for the chipped ones.

“What is all this for?” Steven asks.

“Professional-grade equipment — a poor craftsman blames his tools, you know?” Amethyst says.

“I don’t think that’s what that idiom is supposed to mean,” Steven says.

Amethyst shrugs and considers all the stuff she has thrown away. “Hmm… Do I even have a cookware pile?”

* * *

“Amethyst did this?” Pearl asks, looking in the cupboards.

“Yeah, she’s acting kinda weird,” Steven says.

Pearl cocks her head. “Not particularly, if I know her right,” Pearl says and picks up one of the copper frying pans. “I must admit, I like her taste.” She knocks on it with a knuckle, listening to the pleasant ring. “If you are worried about the money, Steven, don’t be. We have ample funds for a little shopping.”

Steven cocks his head. “I think I need to ask Vidalia about money.”

“That’s wise. Human economics is an interesting science, I must say— Oh, there she is now,” Pearl says and points.

Amethyst comes in carrying a stack of Styrofoam boxes in one hand. “Hey Pearl.”

“What have you got there?” Pearl asks.

“Meat and seafood,” she says. “Steven, can I borrow that cooler full of ice cubes with a permafrost glass in it? The freezer isn’t big enough.”

Steven shrugs. “Sure. Anything else?”

Amethyst sets the boxes down. She opens the fridge. “Oh good, mostly empty. I’m gonna be using most of the fridge for the day, OK?”

“Sure,” Steven says, bewildered.

Amethyst stands and closes the fridge. “And could you tell Greg, the Hendersons, and the Maheswarans that they are invited if they want?”

“The ‘Hendersons’?” Steven asks.

“Vidalia and her family,” Pearl supplies.

* * *

It’s a mystifying sight — Amethyst working diligently. She takes another three quick shopping trips: once for fruits and vegetables, once for dairy, eggs, flour and sugar, and once for spices which takes her as far as Crossroads (thirteen minutes of travel on foot for a Gem warrior.)

“Connie and her parents are celebrating elsewhere,” Steven says, having just conferred with Connie over text.

“Did you talk to Vidalia and Greg?” Amethyst asks, peeling Jerusalem artichokes and eating the peels. On the tables around her are strewn bundles of multicolored carrots, parsnips, scorzonera, a small canvas bag of potatoes, heads of cabbage and salads, and tomatoes.

Steven shakes his head. “What kind of food are you making?”

“French-inspired — they basically invented interesting food,” Amethyst explains. “I’m telling you: food? It’s gotten a lot better in the last century and a half. First for the rich, of course, but then for everyone too, later.”

“It’s funny,” Steven says.

“Hm?” Amethyst says.

“You know so much about food. It’s almost like Pearl. I never even knew you could be so skillful.”

Amethyst blushes. “Aw, I just pick stuff up, you know? Pearl could learn all this in a week — if she ate, I mean. I could never do that.”

* * *

“ _They’re alive?!_ ” Steven yells, pointing into the black, water filled bucket. Inside are three lobsters with rubber bands on their claws.

“Yeah. As fresh as can be,” Amethyst says. “Man, I oughtta start going to seafood auctions — that’s how you get the _really_ good stuff.”

“Are… Are you going to kill them?” Steven asks.

“Obviously. Some people throw them in boiling water, but I’m gonna do the humane thing and split their heads first,” Amethyst says and brandishes the brand new and incredibly sharp chef’s knife.

Steven recoils in horror.

Amethyst raises an eyebrow. “Hey, Steven, buddy. I’m not doing it to be evil, you know that, right?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess,” he says. “I mean, all meat comes from animals, right? And— animals eat each other out in the wilds. And Sadie fished with a spear, that time we got stranded on the island with all the geodes.”

Amethyst nods sagely. “You got it. Besides, if the lobsters seem weird, I probably shouldn’t tell you that oysters are meant to be eaten alive.”

Steven’s eyes go wide as saucers.

* * *

Greg comes into the beach house, and is greeted by the warm, rich aroma of simmering soup stock and roast meat, mixed with hints of fresh fish and freshly baked bread.

“Hi dad!” Steven says.

Greg gives him a once-over. Steven stands by the kitchen counter, in an apron, wielding a filleting knife.

Amethyst is standing beside him, in the process of gutting a cod.

“Hello you two,” Greg says. “It smells really good in here!”

“Steven, pay attention here,” Amethyst says. “You see this line of bones?”

Greg looks around and takes in the vista. Food in various states of preparation is everywhere: baguettes, oven proof dishes full of roots cut into chips and thin slices, salads, bowls of spice mixes. The entire cook top is taken up by pots and pans, and the sink is full of various utensils.

“This is a lot of food,” Greg says “Who else is coming?”

Amethyst extracts two perfect cod fillets, while Steven looks on intently. “You, Vidalia & Co, Steven, Myself, Garnet, and technically Pearl,” she says.

“… I think we ought to invite more people,” Greg says, walking up to them. “I’m guessing most of this won’t be as interesting tomorrow?”

Amethyst stops and looks around at all the food. “… Oops. Yeah, good call, Greg.”

“I’ll go see if Barb wants to come,” Greg says and ruffles Steven’s hair. “You two keep it up, I can’t wait for dinner!”

* * *

Evening falls, and the final preparations fall into place: a large dining table is brought forth from the depths of Amethyst’s room, a patterned tablecloth too. Candles and fireplace are lit, and Steven takes pictures of each dish, sending them to Connie.

(She makes Steven swear to save her some leftovers.)

The menu is as follows:

For appetizers are live oysters served in the shell with a vinegar dressing to taste, purées and salsas with crudité of white carrot and cucumber, and crisps of beet and potato.

After that, comes the lobster — three beautiful red beasts — with a side of salad. The salad is romaine lettuce and fresh parsley, chervil, estragon and chives; with a dressing of heavy cream and lemon.

The fish course is fried cod with crispy skin, with a side of poached leek and caper in browned butter.

The main course is mutton roast, and french-cut fries of every root you can imagine, save potatoes. Parsnip, carrots of every color, celeriac, parsley root, and more.

Freshly baked bread and salted butter accompanies every dish.

The dessert — much to Steven’s continued astonishment — is omelette surprise, also known as Baked Alaska: pudding and ice cream topped with meringue and _baked in a hot oven_.

The champagne is, well.. Champagne. From Champagne in France. The only place where champagne is made, because if it’s not from Champagne, it’s not champagne, and merely a sparkling white. It’s a good one too.

(Other things of the same virtue are bordeaux (red or white wine) from Bordeaux, congac and armanac (brandy) from Cognac and Armanac, respectively, and so on.)

For the fish is a crisp Argentine white, and for the roast is a rich Argentine red. The dessert wine is asti; a sweet sparkling white wine from Italy, produced in the area around the town of — you guessed it — Asti.

Twilight falls, and the hours until the fireworks display at midnight count down. Once again, Mayor Dewey is the sponsor, and the plan is to serve dinner, and bring the dessert down to the beach.

* * *

Steven has barely tied his butterfly when the first guests arrive: Vidalia and Sour Cream. Steven opens the door for them.

“Hello Steven,” Vidalia says. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year to you too,” Steven says, and graciously steps aside. “You look good,” he adds.

She does. In a red button-down shirt and a pair of high-waisted dark slacks. The slippers are still slippers, but black and decorated with sequins.

“Aw, you little charmer,” she says and ruffles his hair.

Sour Cream opts for a fist-bump. “Happy New Year.”

“Nice of you to come, Sour Cream,” Steven says.

“I heard there was going to be a free gourmet meal, so I figured I might,” he says and steps inside. While his mother has dressed up, Steven is unsure if Sour Cream has. The gray hoodie is perhaps a tad fancier than usual, and the lime-green trousers… Who knows.

“I have never in my life seen this much food,” Sour Cream notes, as deadpan as ever.

* * *

“My Girl!” Amethyst greets Vidalia, despite being in the middle of opening the last oysters for the appetizers (not with an oyster knife or anything, just with her nails.)

“Hey Amethyst,” Vidalia says and takes a bar stool.

“I’d give you a handshake or a hug but—” Amethyst says and wiggles her fingers, covered in fresh shellfish juices. “Where’s the little one?”

“Onion? With Yellowtail. He’s in harbor for a week, so…” She shrugs. “I’ve been painting.”

Amethyst raises an eyebrow and pops open the last oyster. “What of?” She grabs an oyster shell lid and takes a bite of it as if it was a potato chip, then goes to wash her hands.

“The temple statue, actually. Trying my hand at some romanticism — Yellowtail took some pictures out from the bay. Anyway, what have you been up to? You seem like you’re in a _really_ good mood?”

Amethyst blushes. “Well…”

* * *

Vidalia has opened the first bottle of champagne, letting the cork fly. It is festive, but — as Amethyst notes, after catching the flying cork and eating it — not the safest way to open a bottle of sparkling wine.

Greg arrives in his green turtleneck and a pair of jeans that look relatively new. “Hello everyone, happy New Year!”

He is joined by Sadie and Barbara. Sadie is wearing a suit jacket over a green dress, and a pair of knee-high leather boots. Barbara has broken out a pantsuit, and lots of jewelery.

“Sadie, Barbara!” Steven says, greeting them by the door. He looks from one to the other. “Barbara, I knew you delivered the mail, but I didn’t know you delivered Sadie!”

Barbara snorts at the wordplay. Vidalia overhears, and starts chuckling.

Sadie shoots him a glare, then snickers as well. “Good joke, Steven.”

“You’re Greg’s boy, right?” Barbara asks.

Steven nods. “The one and only.”

“Barb!” Vidalia calls out, pouring another glass of champagne.

“Viddy!” Barbara calls back and joins her by the kitchen counter in quick strides. They exchange cheek kisses.

“You’ve met Amethyst?…”

“Refreshments? There’s soda, cider… Even champagne, if you do that kind of thing,” Steven says to Sadie.

“Just cider please,” she replies. “Hi Sour Cream, happy New Year.”

Sour Cream waves back, swirling his champagne flute.

* * *

Conspicuously, Garnet and Pearl both disappeared earlier in the afternoon, giving little explanation. Steven counts up the plates accounting for the guests he knows of — Sour Cream, Vidalia, Greg, Sadie and her mother, Pearl (even though she never eats), and Garnet…

There’s table settings for two additional guests. Steven has barely taken notice of the incongruity when he spots Pearl coming up to the door, accompanied by an unknown face.

It is an old East-Asian woman, perhaps in her seventies, with the posture of a soldier, and carrying, rather than supporting herself on, a cane. She is wearing a black pantsuit and small half-moon glasses, her hair is jet-black and shoulder length.

Steven darts the door, and Pearl opens it for the guest.

“Hello Steven,” Pearl says. “May I introduce former ambassador Satoshi Hikaru. Mrs. Satoshi, this is our host, Steven Universe.”

The old woman holds out a liver-spotted hand adorned with bright red nail polish.

“Welcome to Beach City, Mrs. Satoshi,” Steven says, shaking her hand.

“Please, call me Hikaru, Mr. Universe,” she says in a voice accustomed to greeting the wealthy and powerful.

Steven grins. “Mr. Universe is my dad. Call me Steven.”

“Why, of course,” she replies.

* * *

The former ambassador goes for a round of greetings and lingers in the kitchen chatting with Amethyst.

“Who is she?” Steven asks Pearl.

“Mrs. Satoshi is an old friend,” Pearl says. “We consulted her after the World Wars, regarding human conflicts and the development of weapons capable of destroying all life on Earth.”

“Nukes,” Steven says.

“Yes. Japan — Mrs. Satoshi’s homeland — surrendered after two attacks utilizing thermonuclear weapons. Thankfully the only time that has ever happened. Vidalia can give you the whole story, but our interest was in protecting humanity and ourselves from this new threat.”

Steven’s eyes go wide.

“It was a dark time in human history,” Pearl says. “… But enough of that. Happy New Year, Steven.”

“Happy New Year, Pearl,” Steven says.

* * *

Steven comes up to Vidalia and Barbara. “Vidalia?”

“Yes?” she says.

“Sorry to bother you, but there’s two topics I’d like for us to cover.”

Barbara tilts her head. “What’s—”

“I’m Steven’s tutor; we’re getting him ready to start high school,” Vidalia says. “What do you have in mind?”

“War history, and finance,” Steven says.

Barbara’s eyes go wide. Vidalia merely gives him a thumbs up. “I’ll figure something out for the New Year.”

* * *

Garnet is the last to arrive, with the second mystery guest, and without anything resembling subtlety.

There’s a saying: you know you have done well in life when you have a personal helicopter. Garnet has done well in life. She touches down on the beach in a small, rented helicopter.

The rotor spins down and the noise subsides. Garnet slips out of the pilot seat and opens the side door. With the greatest care and gentleness, she helps the passenger out — a very, very old woman.

She is frail and infirm — supporting herself on a four-point cane; and Garnet patiently follows by her side. But what she lacks in physical prowess she makes up for in dress: a turquoise overcoat and more necklaces and bracelets than any reasonable person could ever think to wear, and yet this opulence of tacky accessories is color-matched to the coat and the outfit to a degree that implies the utmost eye for fashion.

Her hair is snow-white, and she wears large, round, thick-framed glasses.

With pained slowness Garnet and the woman make their way up to the beach house. When the stairs prove a problem, Garnet ever so gently lifts her in a bridal carry and effortlessly carries her up.

Steven stands himself outside the door, ready to welcome them.

Even in the arms of the infinitely more powerful, truly ancient alien, the old woman is the more impressive. As she approaches, Steven has to stop himself from gawking.

“This is our host,” Garnet says.

“Hello,” Steven says and offers a hand. “My name is Steven Universe.”

The old woman holds out a hand covered in rings, and with long artificial nails. “Juno Epelman. It is a pleasure to meet you,” she says in a soft voice.

Garnet and Juno step inside, and Steven follows, closing the door behind them.

Vidalia looks over at the new arrival and her eyes go wide. She tugs on Barbara’s arm and points. “Is that—” she says.

“I can’t believe it,” Barbara replies.

Juno closes the distance to the two women. “Good evening,” she says and holds out a hand.

Vidalia shakes it. “You’re Juno Epelman.”

“The same,” Juno says. “You’ve heard of me.”

“Seen you,” Vidalia corrects. “Big fan. I’m Vidalia Henderson.”

Juno smiles and nods and turns to Barbara. They shake hands as well. “Barbara Miller. I really enjoy your work.”

“Oho,” Juno says. “And I thought most people only had an eye for my fashion.”

The former ambassador comes up to her, and they shake hands as well; having already been acquainted.

Juno has more or less captivated the room. Even Sour Cream looks on curiously, as Juno makes her way to Pearl.

“Mrs. Epelman, it is a delight to have you here,” Pearl says and gently hugs the old woman.

“Likewise, dear Pearl, it has been too long.” Juno says. “And look at the three of you. You’ve changed your outfits again.”

Pearl blushes. “Yes, well, we had a few mishaps here and there.”

“And not only that,” Juno says, “but you’re a family now. Garnet told me the news. My condolences, and my congratulations.” She turns towards Steven. “He is a beautiful boy. Good manners, too.”

Pearl smiles and looks at Steven. “Thank you. I think so too.”

Steven, who has been following the conversation intently from across the room, blushes and looks away.

Juno continues into the kitchen to greet Amethyst.

* * *

Juno has taken a seat, Vidalia has served her glass of champagne. Greg has introduced himself, as have — with their mothers’ encouragement — Sadie and Sour Cream.

“Who is she?” Steven asks Amethyst.

“She’s an interior decorator-slash-fashion icon,” Amethyst says. “We met her way back just after the world wars.”

“How?”

“Met her at a high society party — victory celebration, actually. Pearl liked her fashion sense and struck up a conversation. She became a friend.”

Amethyst fills the last bowls with salsa. “I think we’re about ready. Do you wanna help me serve?” she says and hands him a half-length black apron.

Steven takes the apron and ties it around his waist. “Why is she… So frail? It looks like she is in pain all the time.”

Amethyst shrugs. “I guess she’s just old. It happens to humans.”

Steven looks over at Juno. The old woman seems happy enough. “Is this what happens to all old people?”

“Pretty much.”

Steven lingers, looking at Juno, thinking. Amethyst gently taps him on the shoulder and hands him a dish of oysters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a two-parter, so tune in tomorrow for the other half.
> 
> The rumors of my creative demise was greatly exaggerated — I am happy to announce that I am back from hiatus, even though I am still bogged down with my university courses.
> 
> These two chapters have actually been lying around from before I went on hiatus, but here they are. We are gradually nearing the Summer, wherein Peridot shall be introduced, Steven will turn 14, and all the other stuff as well.
> 
> A re-examination of the entire work so far has also been planned, and it will take care of stuff like ages, take into account the way new revelations in canon has made the Gem War arcs wobble, and maybe rewrite the early chapters to be more palatable. I have improved by leaps and bounds since then — it has soon been an entire year!
> 
> Cheers! — Karl.


	95. New Year's Resolutions

They all take seats around the oblong table, and Amethyst presents the appetizer course.

Steven eyes an oyster suspiciously. In the little puddle of saltwater, it is clearly moving and alive.

“It’s a little weird,” Sadie, sitting next to Steven, says. “Here, let me show you.” With her fork, she lifts the small mollusk out of its shell, lays it in a small puddle of dressing on her plate, skewers it, then rolls it around her fork.

Steven mimics her, and ends up with a little beige ball of flesh on the end of his fork.

“Now, you eat it. It’s OK if you don’t like the taste — I didn’t either.”

Steven gathers his courage and bites down on it. The taste is salty, tart, a little metallic, and most definitely not to his liking.

“Oop,” Sadie says, noticing his grimace, “if you gotta get rid of it, put it back in the shell!”

* * *

“You don’t partake in shellfish, Ambassador?” Greg asks Hikaru, his dinner partner.

“I hold a strictly vegan diet for medical reasons,” she replies. “That’s also why I don’t drink.” She gestures to her empty champagne flute.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s not so bad, the salsa is delicious. And while it is very flattering, I’m merely a former ambassador these days,” Hikaru says with a smile.

“Well,” Greg says, “I happen to know that ‘Ambassador’ is a life-long title in the United States.”

“That is true,” Hikaru says, smiling.

“And if the Ambassador doesn’t mind, I don’t see a reason not to flatter when I can,” Greg says and winks.

Hikaru laughs. “I get the impression you’re well versed in high society. How come?”

Greg shrugs. “My wife taught me a thing or two so I wouldn’t embarrass myself when she invited herself to important dinners.”

“Ah, yes. Rose. My condolences, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

“You can really cook, Amethyst! This is great!” Vidalia says.

Amethyst smiles. “I’m glad you think so.” She slurps up an oyster, but forgoes eating the shell as well.

“I’m already hoping you’ll make a repeat performance,” Barbara adds.

“Maybe I will,” Amethyst says.

* * *

“You’re not having anything?” Sour Cream asks Pearl, sitting across from him.

“No. It doesn’t agree with me,” Pearl says.

“Oysters?”

“Food.”

“Oh.”

* * *

“You’re an artist?” Juno asks.

Vidalia blushes. “Well, I paint. It’s a hobby.”

“What kind?”

Vidalia gestures to the portrait of Rose hanging above the door.

Juno nods appreciatively. “Perhaps I should commission a portrait from you.”

* * *

The point comes where the dinner guests have to remind themselves that there will be roast after the oysters, and conversation picks up.

Pearl tells factoids about the calendar year, how the date of the New Year has changed with various reforms, how solstice — which the current American incarnation of New Year’s celebrations stem from — used to be celebrated.

Amethyst clears the appetizers and serves the lobster, and the praise from the guests is but a hair short of a standing ovation.

Barbara shares anachronistic aspects of the postal service’s inner workings, Hikaru has stories of the strange habits of various state officials; Greg has tales from his time as a rock star living on the road, meeting all sorts of people who would go on to become enormously famous and join the club-twenty-seven.

Sadie recounts the tale of how she, Steven and Lars, ended up stranded on the island. She has gotten quite good at making the otherwise harrowing experience funny.

Garnet tells of how she recently went to Paradise one afternoon and won a half a million on a single roulette spin — it was technically cheating, what with future-vision and all, but Casinos are fair-game.

The lobster gives way for the fish course, to everyone’s absolute delight.

Vidalia, with Steven’s permission, recounts how Pearl has taught Steven essentially the Trivium and Quadrivium — grammar, logic, rhetoric, arithmetic, geometry, music, and astronomy, neglecting history, natural sciences and civics. Pearl comes to the curriculum’s defense in that she has spent quite some effort updating it to modern standards and including many new-fangled techniques.

With the help of Steven and Vidalia, Amethyst serves the roast.

Amethyst gives a perspective on hedonism in modern times — the broad availability of cheap, high quality produce and meats, the proliferation of fine cuisine; over sexual ethics, with a perspective on sexuality in ancient times (surprisingly eliciting no embarrassment from any of the young guests — she is a captivating speaker) and finally ending in a spiel about the politics and effectiveness of prohibition and the war on drugs.

Pearl interjects notes on the original purpose of dancing (courtship,) and statements of economical fact to support how banning things never, ever work.

Plates are cleaned thoroughly, and almost everyone gets a piece too much, but there’s still two hours to midnight.

Sour Cream puts on a mix of smooth, jazzy lounge music, Garnet brews tea and coffee, and Amethyst brings out vintage brandies from her personal supply.

Seating arrangements are abandoned as conversation partners move closer to one another, the sofa gets taken into use, and the conversation continues.

Every topic between heaven and earth seems to have been covered when the clock shows half past eleven.

Pearl taps her empty glass with a fork. “The fireworks display is impending, so I suggest we move to the beach and bring the dessert.”

The suggestion is met with murmured cheers. Jackets and coats are donned, dessert dishes and trays of beverages are handed out. Pearl carries two large folding tables, and Amethyst, a stack of folding chairs. Steven brings blankets.

On the eastern beach, overlooking the Atlantic, they set up. Everyone is seated and served a slice of Baked Alaska when the first rocket whizzes up into the sky and explodes in a plume of red and blue sparks to a round of ‘ _oo~h_ ’s and’ _aa~h_ ’s.

* * *

Sitting on a blanket on the beach, next to his dad, with a plate of absolute deliciousness in his lap, is an excellent way to end the evening, in Steven’s opinion.

He looks around at the beach, where dozens of people have come to watch the fireworks as well. Sour Cream has gone off, presumably to find Buck or Jenny; Sadie too, possibly in search of Lars.

In his pocket, his phone chimes.

> 
>         
>     Connie:
>     Happy new year! ;)
>     
>       

He replies in kind:

> 
>         
>                   Steven:
>     Happy new year. <3 :*
>     
>       

It’s not long before he receives a reply — a selfie of Connie, winking, blowing a kiss. She’s wearing a beautiful blue sari.

Steven smiles, and heat rises to his cheeks. He is distracted from the little moment of bliss, by Amethyst joining them.

“Hey,” she says.

“Happy New Year,” Greg says.

“And to you,” she replies. “Greg, there’s something I ought to say to you,” she continues in a solemn tone.

Steven leans forward to look.

“Yeah?” Greg says.

“I’m sorry,” Amethyst says. “Over the years, I’ve been— Well, you know how I’ve been. I want you to know that I’m not proud of that.”

Greg puts a hand on her shoulder. “Apology accepted, Amethyst.”

“Yeah,” Amethyst says. “Thanks. We’re all still… Reeling, you know? Pearl, me, even Garnet. After all these years. I’ve been wallowing, not trying to get better, and… That’s gonna stop now. Call it a New Year’s resolution.”

Greg nods. “I’m sure it’s gonna go well. Best of luck.”

* * *

Greg and Amethyst starts talking about old times, and Steven looks around at the others — Pearl is sitting on Garnet’s lap for some reason together with Vidalia, Barbara and Juno, all chatting animatedly. Hikaru is sitting… By herself, at the other end of the table, looking at the stars.

Odd.

Steven gets up and walks up to the chair next to her. “Do… You mind if I join you?”

She looks at him, with a hint of dampness in her eyes. “No, not at all.”

“Am— Hikaru, are you OK?” Steven asks.

The group at the other end of the table notice the exchange and fall quiet.

“No. But it is not something you should concern yourself with,” she replies. “I don’t want this to be about me; I don’t want to ruin the mood.” She dabs her eyes with a handkerchief.

Amethyst and Greg, too, shift their attention to the Ambassador.

Steven nods. “OK.”

Hikaru looks around at the others, all looking at her. “Oh, damn it,” she mutters, and takes a deep breath. “I have cancer. It’s terminal,” she finally says. “This was a lovely dinner, and I think it was the right decision to spend New Year’s Ever here. Thank you for the invitation, Amethyst.”

“You’re welcome,” Amethyst says.

In the stunned silence, Juno is the first to react. She rises, and makes her way to Hikaru’s side. “That’s not so bad,” she says. “How long?”

“A year if I go into chemotherapy,” the Ambassador replies.

“… But you’re not going to,” Juno finishes. “Wise. Chemo is horrible. My advice? Go vacationing. Throw a goodbye party. Enough of my friends have bit it with regrets still in them.”

Hikaru nods. “Yeah.”

“You’re sick,” Steven says.

“Yes, Steven,” Hikaru says. “I’m dying.”

“Oh.” Steven hops down from his chair. “I’ll be right back,” he says and sets off towards the beach house.

* * *

Steven dials Connie as he walks. The call connects. “Connie, hi.”

“ _Steven! Happy New Year!_ ”

“Connie, one of the Gems’ old friends came here tonight.”

“ _Oh?_ ”

“She… She’s dying of cancer.”

“ _Oh._ ”

“I… I think I’m gonna see if I can heal her.”

“ _… Yeah, that sounds good. Tell me how it goes. And… I love you._ ”

“I love you too,” Steven says and hangs up the call. He enters the beach house and heads for the temple door. With a now familiar mental effort, he calls the door to open for him, into his room.

“Room, I wish for the tiny floating whale to guide me,” He says.

His usual helper in the realm of pink clouds appear.

“I have access to mom’s library of— _Anatomy,_ right?” Steven asks.

“Correct,” the whale replies.

“What’s ‘cancer?’ And give me the short explanation, please.”

Steven has learned not to ask too general questions — it only takes one time, asking about space travel and getting an impromptu lecture in orbital mechanics for one to learn the virtue of specificity.

* * *

It’s day and raining heavily in the secluded valley of the Ural mountains when Steven warps to the fountain. He summons his shield to act as an umbrella, and heads for the healing waters.

Above the central statue, an invisible barrier keeps the rain from falling into the fountain waters. The animated bramble bushes shuffle around slowly in the downpour.

Steven fills a mason jar with water, and on a hunch, lets a drop of his saliva fall into it as well, before lidding it and heading back.

When he warps back into the beach house, Pearl is there waiting.

“Hi Pearl,” Steven says.

“Steven, is that healing water?” she says.

Steven nods.

“You’re going to give it to the Ambassador?”

“She’s dying, isn’t she?”

She comes up to Steven and squats down by him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Every human dies eventually, Steven,” she says.

“Are… You saying I shouldn’t?” he asks.

Pearl smiles an overbearing smile. “No, no. I’m saying it’s unnecessary. Hikaru will die, whether you heal her or not. Humans are plentiful enough that it doesn’t matter, either — since they replicate so effortlessly.”

“So, you’re saying it _won’t work_?!” Steven asks, alarmed.

“No-no, I’m quite confident you can cure her ailment,” Pearl clarifies, “there’s just no reason to. She’ll get a couple of decades more, at most. What good is that going to do?”

Steven stares at Pearl with furrowed brow. “I suppose you have a point, but…” he says. Instead of finishing the sentence, he takes out his phone and dials Connie.

Pearl stands up again.

The call goes through and Steven puts her on speaker. “Connie, you’re on speaker. I’m talking to Pearl, and I need some help.”

“ _Sure,_ ” Connie replies.

“Pearl thinks I shouldn’t heal the guest I told you about,” Steven says.

“ _The one with cancer?_ ”

“Yeah.”

“ _Why?_ ”

Pearl looks sternly at Steven. “Because in the end, it will be a waste of time,” Pearl says.

Connie is quiet for a moment. “ _Steven, what does she mean by that?_ ”

“That it’s not gonna make a difference if I do it,” Steven says. “It’s not gonna matter in the long run.”

“ _Pearl,_ ” Connie says. “ _If this guest was young and spry and had been injured in an accident, would you leave them to die?_ ”

“Well, it depends,” Pearl says. “I would try to prevent the accident in the first place.”

“ _Humor me,_ ” Connie insists.

“Generally no,” Pearl says after a brief pause. “Humans die every day, and more humans are born too. If we had to worry about every human dying, there would be little else to do.”

“ _Well then. Pearl, I say this with all due respect: this is none of your business. Steven is part human, he gets to make the call._ ”

“I—” Pearl says. “What?”

“ _How do I put this,_ ” Connie says, “*It’s like— every now and again, you Gems do something really strange. Not the regular stuff, but…" she pauses, searching for the words.

“Things that remind you we’re aliens?” Pearl tries.

“ _Yeah, exactly,_ ” Connie says. “ _Most of the time you can pass for humans, but then you go ahead and tell Steven not to heal the sick because humans lives are… Fickle. You know what I mean?_ ”

Steven nods and looks at Pearl. _Like forgetting that Connie and I are human,_ he thinks, and something in her facial expression tells him Pearl thinks that very same thought.

“ _Believe me, Pearl, saving this person is going to make a difference, to them. Literally, the difference between life and death,_ ” Connie says.

“ _And if that doesn’t convince you, take it as a science experiment. Or even as a way of making an ally. Whoever this person is, they will probably be eternally grateful for being healed. Take your pick, I’ve got plenty._ ”

Pearl looks from the phone to Steven. “Fine, I take your point. Steven, I’m not going to stop you.”

Steven nods. “Thanks for the help, Connie,” he says into the receiver.

“ _Any time._ ”

Steven hangs up. “She’s the smart one,” he says, and walks past Pearl, heading for the door. Pearl follows.

* * *

Perhaps owing to the Ambassador’s wishes, the whole party isn’t centered around her. Only half.

Greg, Barbara, Vidalia and Amethyst have taken to the other end of the table. Juno and Garnet sit with Hikaru.

Steven puts the jar down on the table in front of Hikaru.

“What’s this?” she asks.

“A cure,” Garnet replies before Steven can. She turns to face Pearl. Pearl shrugs, Garnet nods in reply.

Hikaru picks up the jar. “A cure?”

“It is magic healing water. My mom’s invention,” Steven says. “You drink it.”

Hikaru’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “If this is a prank, it’s a tasteless one.”

“It’s not,” Garnet says. “Provided you drink as little as a tablespoon, your oncologist will tell you your cancer is miraculously in remission at your appointment next week.”

“Well,” Juno says. “If magical healing is on the table, perhaps I could have some too. Does it take care of joint pain?”

Greg overhears. “Yeah, the healing water?” he says. “It works pretty good. I had a bad shoulder which got fixed right up. I even think my hair is coming back.”

“What’s that about healing?” Vidalia asks. Greg briefly explains. The three of them get up and move closer — Barbara is especially interested.

“Everyone,” Pearl says, stopping them. “If I can have your attention.

“I’m about to disabuse you of several notions, so listen up: this is not a handout, this is not a replacement for medical attention.”

“Pearl—” Steven begins in protest, but Pearl holds up a hand to stop him.

“This will for the foreseeable future be a one-time offer to close friends, and you will keep it secret,” she finishes, then bends down to whisper in Steven’s ear. “ _If you are going to do this, Steven, you have to tread carefully._ ”

“ _Why?_ ” Steven whispers back.

“ _There isn’t enough for everyone in the world. We have to pick and choose, and that can make people_ very _angry._ ”

A chill goes down Steven’s spine, and he glances at the others. For a moment he is acutely aware of the fact that Greg, Vidalia, Barbara, Hikaru and Juno are human beings. And he _isn’t._

* * *

_The Ambassador’s oncologist reports a miraculous remission._

_Juno climbs a staircase unaided for the first time in years._

_Barbara doesn’t need a knee-support to walk her daily delivery route for the first time in months._

_Vidalia is able to sleep on her stomach again for the first time since she had Onion._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally one chapter, but it came out about twice as long as the longest chapter I'd written so far.
> 
> And here we get a taste of the first major obstacle to saving the world: people are selfish pricks.


End file.
